


Beauty and The Beast (LA by Night FIC)

by TwoBlueTails



Category: L.A. By Night (Web Series), Vampire: The Masquerade
Genre: Action/Adventure, Anarch Movement (Vampire: The Masquerade), Beauty and the Beast Elements, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Camarilla (Vampire: The Masquerade), Character Development, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Family Feels, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Horror, Minor Character Death, Minor Eva/Jasper Heartwood, Mystery, Plot Twists, Politics, RPG, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Team as Family, Unrequited Crush, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Vampire Family, annabelle is smarter, annabelle is tougher, eva is a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 06:53:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoBlueTails/pseuds/TwoBlueTails
Summary: Barely a few months ago, Annabelle was a regular young woman, majoring in Political Science at Griffith College in Los Angeles. She was active in a number of student organizations and political groups, fighting for citizens rights against government and corporate corruption.After a particular accident though, her humanity was stolen from her and now she is a monster - plunged suddenly into a terrifying new existence full of rules and demons she does not know and cannot trust.-------This story is a tribute to Geek & Sundry's absolutely AMAZING chronicle, L.A. by Night, which was streamed in their Twitch and Youtube channels. It follows the sessions of their game of Vampire: The Masquerade, a tabletop RPG game. SOME of this fic is directly transcribed from their playthroughs, but a lot of details and outcomes of situations will be different to adapt to a different ship.THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN EXPLICIT MENTION OF VIOLENCE AND GORE (and maybe sexual content though I haven't decided yet). Read at your down discretion.
Relationships: Annabelle/Jasper Heartwood, Nelli G/Victor Temple
Comments: 13
Kudos: 8





	1. DISCLAIMER

This prologue, and the plot and characters shown in the chapters of this story are belong to Geek & Sundry's streamed 'Vampire: The Masquerade' campain, called 'L.A. by Night'. It can be found on Twitch and Youtube, and also in podcast format on Spotify. Some of the summary, too, was taken from the official Wiki of the fandom on the page about Annabelle, our main character. 

I **do not take credit for any of their work** , this is merely my (MOSTLY accurate) transcription of it in written, narrative form! Cuz honestly i been absolutely in love with this entire chronicle for the last couple weeks. Go give them some love if you enjoy this fic, please! they really deserve so, it's increadible. Also, I say **mostly** cuz I will be changing some plot holes or stuff i personally think could be better approached by the players in terms of their character's reactions and thought process (hence this being a **FIC** and not an actual transcription), but it'll still be heavily similar if not equal to the original show. **All I CLAIM AS MY OWN here is the ship (and what changes that entails).**

Cuz admitedly I didn't really like the romantic subplots they chose for these two characters and some of the plot holes those choices left on the story. So I just _have_ to scratch that shipping & story teller itch, I couldn't resist haha XD So again, if you watch their playthrough you WILL, yes, find a lot of similar or equal wording and dialogues. Since this is mainly meant to be my personal hommage to them and their wonderful work. :) 

Anyway, yea, that was all haha Hope you enjoy! <3


	2. The World We Live In

L.A. by night is a city in turmoil. In the 1940's, young vampires rebelled and the streets ran red with elder blood. From it, the Anarch free states were born; under the leadership of the legendary Jeremy McNeil.

The Anarchs carved the city up into neighborhood Baronies, and claimed Los Angeles to be a city of new promise for all Kindred. A city of equality and justice among the undead. But... As with all kinds of justice, the mileage might make its meaning vary. And that is doubly true when you're a vampire.

In the recent nights, the Camarilla abandoned the city of San Francisco and Prince Vannevar Thomas has claimed praxis over Los Angeles... Which, of course, did not ring well to the residing Anarchs.

They must respond. _Quickly._

Before the Camarilla takes over the city that they call theirs.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a fairly obscure fandom, from what I know. So I will be helping any eager readers with lore and technical terms in the notes, to the best of my habilities. Cuz i really love this story and universe, and I hope posting this fic can lead more people to know and enjoy it.
> 
> SO! Speaking of help, these terms will all be explained in the plot later on, so feel free to skip this if you'd prefer that mystery. :)
> 
> KINDRED: the most used word by the vampires when talking of their own species.
> 
> CAMARILLA: Word of variable pronounciation, is the name of a political faction based on nobility and monarchy. They focus their laws on strict hierarchy, rules and status, that provide safety and stability... so long you know your place and worth on it.
> 
> CLAIMING PRAXIS: The act of a Camarilla Prince (the highest position of their government system, in a way like a govenor) declaring himself ruler of a certain area or city, and all the Kindred that reside or cross by it.
> 
> ANARCHS: As the name implies, its the Camarilla's strongest opposing political faction, formed of mostly younger vampires that believe in equality and freedom, even though they still follow some of the rules brought by the elders (like the Masquerade, a law created by the Camarilla that demans all Kindred to keep their existence a secret from humanity).


	3. Poacher

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

If you prefer to have some context of things before reading, **there is a small glossary of lore-related terms used in this chapter on the BOTTOM NOTES.**

In the next chapter I won't add those, since things will start to be explained through the scenes and dialogues, including some of these exact terms. So lemme know if you'd preffer them in all chapters, and feel free to skip that glosary if you prefer the mystery to brew for longer about those things. :)

**\------**

When the sun rose over Los Angeles, people in the city woke up, and went to work. They took care of their children, sent them to school. Did their shopping, drove places. Met for lunch, had dinner... But the kindred, of course, did none of those things. While the sun was in the sky, they were comatose. Their lungs were empty, eyes closed. Their hearts didn't beat... Because they are dead. But when the sun sinks below the horizon; their eyelids flutter open, and awaken into the night. Some to hunt, some to venture down to private affairs.

Three Kindred in particular started their night heading down the halls of Griffith college, their domain, where they have been informed of a particularly upsetting issue: a poacher.

While Nelli was focused on adoring her ruby colored manicure, legs crossed elegantly in her usual seat beside Victor, Jasper leaned his boney elbows against the table and let out a long sigh.

"So, what do we do?"

"Well, Jasper darling, it's not you is it?" Nelli arched an eyebrow, uninterested.

"I don't think it qualifies as _poaching_ if I'mthe one doing it." Took some effort for the Nosferatu not to grimace at her disdain, but at least that finally managed to draw Victor's attention out of his smartphone.

"And," Victor added matter-of-factly in a long sigh. "I think we know that he would cover his tracks much better than... _this._ There's missing blood, there's-- what, six students? What do we even know so far?"

"There is a _rash_ of anemic students. Flu-like symptoms, people missing... " The Nosferatu complied.

Nelli set her unused glasses on the table, lost in thought.

"That explains a couple of my fashion students missing classes."

"Have you heard anything? Anyone on your 'blog' or whatever?" Victor asked, making quotation marks with his fingers to the word _blog._ "What is it even that you--?"

"Oh don't worry about it, I have a ton of things that I do." Nelli waved her hand before Victor could finish, rolling her eyes. "Right now we need to focus on how many students are missing. There are _six of them, Victor._ Focus!"

And it wasn't just students. According to Victor's contacts, they knew so far that there were several blood plasma bags missing from the infirmary in this last week; _coincidentally_ at the same time of the anemia and flu-like cases, which were growing in number by the hour. So, either someone was very careless and _very hungry_... Or they had multiple poachers roaming around.

"Well, time is money." Victor claps his hands, getting up from his chair. Nelli stared at him when Victor looked down at both her and Jasper expectantly. "Let's go take a look. That's why we're here, after all."

"But, where do we even start?" She frowned.

Jasper arched an eyebrow back at the Toreador when she stared between him and Victor, expecting a volunteer. When Victor shrugged and also looked back at Jasper for the same, the Nosferatu leaned forward and motioned to his face.

"Well, _I'm_ not the one going on to walk around campus, now am I?" He scoffed, claws lifting his comfortable black hoodie just enough to make a small bit of his distorted, horrifying self visible to them.

Nelli continued to stare at him, deadpanned, but Victor let out a heavy sigh.

"I'll go. I mean, I always like to spend some time with the people." He adjusted his expensive suit and tie over his tall frame, leaning back and sighing as he went with a confident smirk. As if it had been his plan all along, rather than him picking the short straw. "See what's going on. Make sure that, you know, record sales are up."

Nelli turned around on her chair to look at him, measuring her partner's expensive outfit with her eyes with a small smile. Under her gaze, Victor turned to her again and smiled back.

"Would you like to accompany me, my darling?" He extended his hand to Nelli theatrically.

She looked at it for a moment, before letting out a heavy sigh.

"Oh, I suppose I have to." she groaned, gracefully putting her glasses back on and getting up with Victor's gentlemanly, needless help.

Jasper got himself up soon after and put his hands on his pockets. "I will keep an eye on you from elsewhere."

"As you normally do."

"As always."

Victor and Nelli sighed at the same time, one with polite understanding and the other with dismissive sarcasm. Jasper grinned humorlessly as he followed the pompous couple out the door. Before he was fully out the wooden archway, his deformed figure was no longer visible to the untrained eye.

Unlike Victor and Nelli, who were both extraordinarily beautiful human beings and rejoiced in such good-looks also through their unlife, outdoor expeditions were _not_ Jasper's forte. Going around the general populous was never an incursion that didn't require some preparation beforehand for a Nosferatu: the clan whose supernatural talents came together with a corpse-y, veiny and gross outwards appearance. One of his clan's abilities though was being able to cloak such a monstrous appearance, making him invisible so long he was careful about making physical contact with his surroundings.

So, to be on the safe side, despite his supernatural cover Jasper made his way outside through the sanctum's emergency exit, following along through the rooftops while his colleagues walked across the campus' quad.

Griffith college is a familiar sight to them - a small, private university that takes up several city blocks of East Hollywood. The buildings have an unusual architectural style, a cacophony of old and new melded together. Around 1930's, the main blocks used to be a movie studio during the silent movie era, then it was converted into a more modern facility in the 40's when the talkies came along. It fell in disrepair during the World War, but it has been slowly renovated with modern glass and steel since the college settled in.

The campus is always crowded with a diversity of young people, even at night; students going from dorms to the student union building, cafes and pubs... Even the library, or simply walking around the quad. Asphalt paths wind up their way through the manicured trees, all lit up by the pale light of streetlamps every now and then. And that night was no different.

In a dreadfully slow pace below, a couple yards behind him, Nelli and Victor casually make their way through the mass of sleepless students. Some eyes follow them, others gossip and click pictures - even while the duo clearly squabbles and bickers in hushed tones. Probably about their outfits or some other vain bulshit like that, Jasper guesses. He groans and rolls his eyes as he slows down his pace, not wanting to lose track of the two slowpokes.

The infirmary was located inside the student union building, a quick walk across the quad from their sanctum - a spacious meeting room secretly set on top of the college's music building, who took Victor's name in homage. Jasper sat down by the border of the adjacent roof on the other side of the quad when Nelli and Victor _finally_ arrived at the infirmary, and occupied himself with observing their students in the area.

There was nothing particularly flashy going on, aside from a small group of students setting up mics and some instruments; guitar, keyboard and a saxophone not too far from his roof of choice. An odd time for an impromptu street performance, but then again, students that age had made weirder decisions; both through his own time as one, so long ago now, and in the last couple years he observed that place.

When the group finally starts playing though, Jasper immediately cursed having supernatural senses. Their sound was _terrible_ , absolutely awful - an incongruent mashup of Simon and Garfunkel and Chelsea wolfe, and who knows what else. Unlike Victor Jasper was no music producer, but it didn't take a genius to recognize what an atrocity sounded like.

"Oh, man..." he grunted, grimacing as the grating sound pierced his ears. As if he needed _that_ level of a distraction in a hunting incursion. "Alright. _Great._ "

The students surrounding the group though, to the Nosferatu's disbelief, seemed to be _loving_ it. A crow quickly formed around them, right outside the infirmary. To hold on to his sanity, Jasper focused on the people rather than their noise, looking for any sign of anyone paying more on the crowd than the musical anomaly echoing through the quad... But, beyond a mildly amused security guard on the building next door to the student union, no one seemed particularly suspicious.

"So disappointing..." Jasper grunted, blocking one of his long ears as the concert escalated from bad to worse, as the band replaced Chelsea Wolfe with REM in their mix.

Shaking his head, he decided to try again. This time perching closer to the edge of the building for a better angle; almost mimicking a gothic gargoyle, if he was visible to any of the mortals down below.

This time, he _did_ see someone.

Down an alleyway slightly behind the bored security guard, a young man with short black hair and a Griffith College hoodie stared intently at the small crowd. He looked... Pissed off, angry. As if the bystanders themselves were some kind of affront to musical propriety, more so than the band.

Before he could pay more attention to the man though, Jasper's phone buzzed in his pocket. He leaped back to the safer area of the roof, sitting down before opening the stupid flip phone Victor had set him up with for their missions. Unsurprisingly, the texts were from the ventrue himself - they had made it.

The text contained three pictures of a computer screen, showing medical records of three students: A young red headed woman in a green leather jacket, who worked at the campus cafe. A freshman named Chen, who works at the library media center. And lastly, the third picture was of a guy named Juan. He was a nerdy type, very thin with short black hair, wearing a hoodie. He looked familiar...

Jasper looked up at the guy down the alley, and smiled. Quickly he typed up a reply to the group chat before putting his phone away again: _'I have eyes on Juan'_.

In the timespan of typing and getting back to his former position though, 'Juan' vanished into the college landscape. "Fuck," Jasper clicked his tongue, annoyed. He adds the follow-up text of _'...No I don't'_ before sighing and making his way down the building's firescape.

When he reaches the quad and strides closer to its middle, being mindful not to bump into any students, Jasper easily spots the black haired young man entering the library building.

"Ah. Gotcha." he snickers to himself.

On cue, Victor and Nelli emerge out of the infirmary. Speeding swiftly towards the building in question, Jasper swoops up behind them midway and whispers ' _library'_. Nelli immediately stiffened and squirmed in place, and Victor froze and stretched his neck uncomfortably.

"I _hate it_ when he does that." Nelli spits quietly.

"I'll never get used to it..." Victor breathes out in agreement, clearing his throat. "But, yeah. The library. Uh, yes. Quickly..."

Jasper chuckles from the Library's entrance a few yards away, shaking his head. In the years they had been working together, that repeated reaction of theirs never ceased to amuse him.

"Wait. He's got the library taken care of, let's go to the coffee shop." Nelly halted midway, pulling Victor's arm.

"No. He can't exactly _go into_ the library." Victor reminds her with a long sigh.

Nelli rolls her eyes in frustration. The combination of her disdain and Victor's thoughtfulness makes Jasper click his tongue, competitiveness spiked.

"Who. Says?" He scoffs.

When both halt their step and look around for him, Jasper unsheads the veil that kept him unseen so far, making his hideous features visible under the sickly orange glow of the sodium street lamps. Nelly scrunches her nose and frowns when she spots him, and Victor gulps down an expression of shock.

"Oh. It's. Uh, ugh." she groans under her breath, trying to compose herself.

Victor forces a smile. "Uh. Glad to see that--"

"I know what I look like."

"You know, the ointment's working. It is." The Ventrue cheers with a nonchalant chuckle, gesturing to his own face then pointing at Jasper's. His expression though is not as positive as he likely meant it to be.

"Thanks." Jasper mocks, rolling his eyes. Nelli laughs. "You sure you're not gonna mess up your suit or your shoes in there?"

"No, I'm not sure. No."

"My shoes got _ruined_ last time because of you." Nelli huffs, crossing her arms.

Jasper ignores her tantrum, getting straight to business.

"Juan, one of the men you sent me a picture of," Jasper started, pointing at Victor who nodded. "Is inside the Library. Just thought you'd wanna know."

"Shall we go speak with him?" Victor turned back to Nelli.

"He looks..." Jasper added, frowning to the memory as both turned back to him and waited. "Upset. At least he was when the music was playing."

"Hm." Nelli scoffed, thoughtful.

Silence settled between the three Kindred for a moment.

" _Never_ hire that band to your label." Jasper groaned as he leaned back against the wall.

Victor chuckled at him, nodding and pointedly shaking a finger. Clearly, from his stiff expression, he had heard at least some of the repertoire as well. As the ventrue agreed though, Nelli clung to his arm.

"No, no. Hire them to annoy him." she whispered.

"That's a good point." Victor's eyes sparkled to the idea.

Jasper rolled his eyes and allowed the shadows to swallow him once more as Nelli cheerfully chuckled to her small victory. She took Victor's arm as he offered it to her and motioned for the wide library doors. He could still hear Nelli's bored complaints about the place as they stepped inside the building.

"Libraries are such a _yawn_..."

"Knowledge is power." He could hear Victor shrugging back at her, then changing his mind. "Well, no. _Money_ is power. But _second_ to money, yeah, knowledge is power."

Jasper was relieved as the conversation got away from his direct range, the duo's disdain for their luck getting to Jasper's nerves almost more than the usual disposition of his Toreador and Ventrue colleagues. What wouldn't _he_ give to be able to visit libraries freely again...

Unfortunately though, the silence on their side gave space to other things. Almost immediately Jasper was reminded that he wasn't far enough from the quad to be spared from the band's musical agony. The Simon and Garfunkel mashups continued to evolve into even more atrocious results; Along with the REM, they had now added something more to the mix... Maybe it was The Police, Jasper wasn't sure.

"Wha-- _Who_ thought that was a good idea?" he growled to himself, puzzled. Jasper buried his face down his hands, groaning in despair. " _Ugh,_ this is torture..."

He pulled back his phone and looked through the remaining pictures. According to the victim's information, two of them should be now in the library. Determined to create some space between himself and that auditory atrocity, Jasper texted the coterie's group chat his plan and started making his way to the cafe where the third victim should be working.

He is halfway there when his phone buzzes with a reply.

_'Look for an Annabelle'._

Jasper smiles as the coffee shop comes into view.

Grounds for Coffee is the only cafe located _on_ campus. There are others in the neighboring area, but of course, they're not as convenient. Because of this the place stays open until late and us always busy; and that night is no exception. The place is filled with youngsters, and _finally_ the guitar and saxophone cacophony have fully faded into the distance.

Jasper sneaks close to the place, placing himself under the shadow of an empty alleyway across the street where he has a mostly clear view of the cafe's interior through their wide windows. He scans the mortals inside, attentive to anyone that seems remotely secluded or not as chatty and distracted as most clients. Overall, all the people inside seemed busy. Some of them were in small groups, chatting, eating and flirting, as most humans in their early twenties do. Others were too busy buried around piles of books and notebooks, clinging to highlighters and post-it notes as they studied. Or, well, tried to.

But no one was alone. No one was watching around.

No one resembled the disguised predators he knew all too well.

"Shit..." he sighed after a couple of minutes, giving up. Even eavesdropping to the mess of parallel conversations going around in there, he couldn't hear anyone call to 'Annabelle' or any shortened variant of it.

Soon after, Nelli and Victor caught up. Jasper leaned back against the coffee's brick wall as the couple walked into the carefree environment, letting out a wave of generic muzak seep into the street through the glass doors. Not great, but definitely not as dreadful as whatever _that_ was in the quad.

He watched the couple whisper, looking around. When the murmurs stopped and, in an offended scoff, Nelli looked up and down Victor's outfit and blurted something out, the couple's murmur quickly turned into a squabble. Groaning in frustration, Jasper stepped forward and made his way into the cafe as the couple's attention got - once again - sidetracked into themselves.

He waited for a bit, not risking to have any mortals see a door opening on it's own or accidentally becoming visible, then shimmed through into the place once a young couple walked in. Immediately Jasper overhears Nelli scoff a condescending "you _wish._ " through a smile, swiping a wave of her long navy blue hair to the side. Victor, beside her, is glaring indignant at whatever had just been said.

"Excuse me, I paid an excessive amount for this suit." He scoffs at her, adjusting his suit matter-of-factly. "This is Egyptian Cotton, thank you very much."

Nelli gazes him up and down again and snorts.

"Well you're paying the wrong tailor, then."

"Would you two get your shit together, please?" the nosferatu hisses, standing right by their necks. The duo freezes immediately, Nelli's nails digging down her palm in her surprise. Victor chokes.

"You-- It-- Fi-- wha--" he sputters, but then breathes in deep and clears his throat. "He's right. Business first."

Nelli sighs, unwillingly. "Fine."

Jasper steps out of the way before anyone else comes in, and positions himself closeby in the vacant space between the entrance and one of the first row of seats, crossing his arms.

"Apparently she works here." Victor mumbles.

Still unseen, Jasper nods, and starts looking around along with the others now through the few staff members walking around between the tables. The first person to catch his eye - and luckily Victor's too - is Louann, the red headed sophomore also described in the medical reports. Nelli soon spots her too, standing behind the counter.

The social couple walks up to her.

"Excuse me," Victor starts, smiling cordially. "Uh, is 'Annabelle' working tonight?"

The young woman looks up at him, at first surprised but then guarded.

"Ah, she-- Yeah, wha-- No, maybe?" she mumbled, offering them a stiff smile.

As she did, Louann discreetly peeked over Victor and Nelli's shoulders; Well, or tried to. Her attempt to grab someone's attention was embarrassingly obvious. Nelli and Victor exchanged a look, and Jasper tried following Louann's eyes across the cafe. Victor swiveled himself around and pointed his thumb back at no one in particular.

"Is that her?" he asks the startled clerk, who has now gone terribly pale.

Nelli immediately stepped forward, a friendly smile carefully crafted into her expression. She reached a hand to the panicking girl, holding her arm.

"Look, we're here to give her a scholarship for the university." she smiled, and Victor nodded with equally professional composure. "We just want to give her a couple questions and see her place of work. To decide if she qualifies."

Louann's shoulders visibly laxed in relief, her pupils dilating as her mind fell prey to Nelli's supernatural persuasion.

"Oh, okay." She smiles vacantly. "Scholarship, wow. She will be really thrilled. She has been having some issues lately, so she could really, _really_ use the money."

Nelli nodded as she spoke, encouraging her. Victor too.

"It's her lucky day." he smiled.

"I didn't know they gave out scholarships like that, out here in coffee shops..."

"Well, we're still working on it." Nelli admitted, leaning back. "We wanna get to know her a bit more first."

"Okay. Well, she doesn't exactly work here anymore, but sure. Whatever." Louann frowned, before shrugging and pointing back to the spot she had previously tried to peek towards. "She is over there, in the red jacket."

Jasper spots her quite easily once the receptionist gives the descriptor. In one of the last tables by the bathroom doors, an asian woman with long black hair partially shaved in one side is sitting by a window with another student. She has a red leather jacket on, dark jeans and snickers. The guy with her is a tall, muscular type with a blonde crew cut, wearing a lacrosse sweatshirt.

He made his way quietly through the establishment and positioned himself close by, listening in while Victor and Nelli finished their social maneuver. Annabelle was clearly in her early twenties, wearing a delicate gold necklace with a small heart pendant that seemed out of place in her punk-ish outfit and hairstyle.

The two students were smiling at each other awkwardly, chatting in a hushed tone.

"Are you... sure that's what you want?" the young man asks, hesitantly.

"Yeah." The girl in the leather jacket nods, biting her lip. She looks just as stiff as the guy, whatever the topic might be, but her gentle expression and delicate facial features make the stiffness on _her end_ seem more charming than cringey.

"Uh, well, okay. But we can't do that _here._ "

"N-No, of course not." Annabelle quickly shakes her head, laughing and fiddling with the cord hanging from her jacket's cotton gray hoodie. "Just, like... In a couple hours?" she looks up back at him, hopeful.

"Do you wanna go back, like, to my place?" The guy offers, pointing out the window.

Annabelle's eyes widen and she considers it for a moment, before smiling and nodding. She has a wide smile, genuine and earnest. Almost naive looking, which again - seem almost out of place in her strong and edgy style.

"Yeah. Sure." She sighs. "That'd be great."

Lacrosse dude grins back to her and claps his hands, and gleefully stands up.

"Great. Yeah, let's go."

"Okay."

"Okay." he repeats, still smiling awkwardly.

"Okay, alright." Annabelle chuckles nervously and rubs her hands through her pants, getting herself out the table and slipping her hoodie on. "No use to brood further about it, I guess."

Her escort nodded as he waited for her, shifting from a foot to the other. He pulls out a wallet and throws some bills on the table once she is up, then both follow side by side towards the door. As Jasper tails the duo with a couple steps between them, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Groaning, he glares at Victor before checking the message. _'They're heading out. We'll take her outside'._

The nosferatu holds back a heavy, snarling sigh. _No shit, sherlock._ Jasper doesn't bother to reply as the buff blond walks by Nelli and Victor and opens the door and stiffly offers the leather jacket woman his arm.

She halted when he did so, putting a hand dramatically over her chest.

"What a gentleman. Look at you." she gapes, laughing shyly and snaking her arm in his. The guy chuckles in response, proud.

"Yeah." he scratches his neck. "Should we go?"

"Yeah," she nods, smiling. Her tone hushed when she continued. "Thanks."

Jasper slips outside with them when the blond holds the door open. They walked quietly for a moment, arm in arm and exchanged glances, before the woman cleared her throat.

"Thanks though, for this. Honestly."

"Yea, no, no problem." the guy smiled.

"But, uh, yeah. Let's just, you know, keep this on the down low." she grimaces uneasily as she asks, looking around. "I mean, I know your team and your teammates and everything aren't gonna talk, but..."

"Oh. Oh, yeah. No," the guy nods in agreement calmly. "I don't think they'd understand."

"Yeah..."

"But I do." He quickly assured her, putting his free hand over his in his arm. "I understand."

Annabelle smiled.

"I know. I know you do." she nodded, softly. "You're different."

"I totally get it, I sympathise with the position you're in... I'm, I'm happy to help."

" 'cause you're awesome." Annabelle smiled wider. "Did you know that?"

Lover boy blushed lightly, but nodded as he chuckled to her compliments. Jasper cringed and had to hold himself not to barf at the awkward, obviously half-meant compliment show. Charming or not, 'Annabelle's' acting was definitely not her strong suit... Even though the blond seemed to be buying it.

"Yeah, You know, I heard it before." He chuckled proudly.

"Can never hear it often enough though." Annabelle pointed, smiling. "Right?"

"Yeah." They both laughed.

Jasper halted when, a few moments later, the woman frowned and tensed up, looking around uneasily around his direction. She didn't seem to have actually seen him, but the reaction made him smirk with suspicion. Surely enough, she had sensed _something._ And no mortal could actually do so, not with the level of _his_ abilities... It could also explain that dude's blind willingness to her. She had her charm, sure, but it did feel somewhat forced.

They strode ahead a little more quickly after that, loverboy telling her excitedly about the lacrosse team and the local championships they were participating in. The woman nodded and hyped him up, though her attention didn't seem to be all there. Both headed down across campus, in the direction of a modest apartment building a couple blocks away from the college dorms. When they got closer to one of the buildings in particular, silence settled itself between them once more.

"So, uh..." the guy started uneasily, clearing his throat. She waited. "How, how we... How do you... Uh, I mean... It's, It's..."

He sighed uncomfortably, still trying to pick the right words. The woman gaped and cleared her throat as she caught on though, all of a sudden once again seeming stiff and awkward.

"Oh, no worries. It's okay, uh." she shook her head quickly, gripping to the boy's arm nervously. "It's all hygienic and safe and everything. I got, uh, I got a needle and a bag..."

Jasper chuckled under his breath to the accidental confession. _Bingo_.

"Whoa, I-I see. uh..." the dude laughed.

The anxiousness in the guy's demeanor clearly deflated Annabelle's nervousness into a sulked, pale tension. But she carefully masked it up under a sighed, shy laughter.

"I mean, If you're still... Still into that..." She offered, examining her pair's eyes warily.

Noticing so though, the lacrosse boy chuckled once more and patted her hand gently.

"I'm, I'm up for anything." he assured her, calmly. Then looked away. "Just, you know. Never done this before."

Relief washed over the woman's features almost immediately.

"That's ok, I really get it. No need to be nervous."

When the duo stops in the building's front door and the boy starts to pat his pockets, then fumbles with his keys, Jasper halts and looks around for any sign of his colleagues. But there is no sign of either Nelli or Victor. His phone buzzes almost on cue, and he sighs at the messages; it's Neli, warning they had been - unsurprisingly - slowed down by students asking for selfies with Victor. Jasper simply gives them the building's address, then hurried through the front door once the lover boy finally got it open.

"You're so sweet." Annabelle gapes once more at him when the boy holds the door open for her. Teenage-y, flirty calm fully back to her demeanor. She got through soon after Jasper, waiting as her date closed it behind him. "You know, I never really got how lacrosse works and stuff. Maybe... you could teach me some of it?"

"Sure!" the guy beamed, shoving his keys back to his pocket. "It's totally cool. It's awesome."

He goes into a really unnecessarily detailed explanation of the finer points of lacrosse and its general history as they make their way up the stairs. They turn left on the second floor and a few doors after it, lacrosse dude gets out his keys again and opens an apartment door.

Standing by the corner, Jasper sneaks his phone out and texts down the group chat the apartment number. When he looks back, the door is open but Annabelle is now a couple steps behind her companion.

"So, you really _are_ cool with this. Right?" she asks, worried.

The blond man stops and turns to her.

"This is where we make sure, then?"

"Yes." she nodded, stepping closer. "I'll be discreet, and I know that you'll definitely be discreet. I just wanna make sure that you're still fully ok with everything."

He nodded, seeming appreciative.

"I am totally into it. Yeah." he assured her. "I wanna help."

"Okay, awesome." she smiles again, relieved. It's only then she starts walking again, heading inside. "It really, really means a lot to me. Thank you _so_ much."

"No problem." he smiles, then shuts the door.

Jasper can hear the sound of a bolt being clicked shut in the silence of the empty hallway, and their muffled conversation fading down the interior of the apartment. A few minutes of waiting later, steps echo through up the stairs. Nelli and Victor emerge slowly up the hallway, checking their phones and conspicuously stopping by the corner.

Jasper heads closer to them, just in time to hear Victor sighing to him and Nelli under his breath. "So, how do you wanna go in?"

Nelli shrugs, looking at the seemingly nothing around them.

"Jasper is the concealed one."

"I mean..." Victor scratches his short, neatly trimmed beard worriedly. "We can't let her hurt this kid. Not on our watch."

He and Nelli exchange a long, serious look, and the Toreador frowns at him.

"Why would you think she's--" Nelli starts, but lets the words die out midway when Victor's eyes widen indignantly at her half-question. She is not too pleased, but can't exactly argue either. "Oh, okay."

With such blatant inexperience, it was obvious how letting her feed with no consequences could end up. They _all_ knew what those first nights felt like. And even without listening to her miserable attempt at a conversation like Jasper just had, seeing all the tracks she had left behind made all too clear for anyone looking. She was green, _too_ green.

The three of them stood there in silence for a moment, before Victor cleared his throat.

"Jasper?" Nelli mumbles.

"Do you happen to have, uh, any lockpicking skills?" Victor whispers.

Jasper sighed to the enquiry, groaning and fumbling with his pockets as he approached the door. The sound gave Victor and Nelli finally a direction to look at, and they followed him suit from a short distance. Jasper was decently skilled at these, usually... Though he wasn't sure how they'd go through the deadbolt.

Once his lockpick touched the lock his body became visible to the others, who nearly bumped straight into him in their surprise. The apartment lock was an old, simple model... But somehow he couldn't find his way through it. Something in its mechanism was bent out of shape, maybe? There was no way to be sure with those old things. Jasper grunted in frustration when his lockpick snapped broken, getting up and grimacing at the duo watching him. Nelli especially had one of her eyebrows risen in shock.

"You're supposed to be _good_ at this!" she hissed in disbelief.

"Yes. It doesn't always work." He forced a sarcastic grin, before scoffing and leaning back against the wall.

Victor walked in between them, patting the Nosferatu's shoulder. "We'll do this the old fashioned way." he nodded, pointing towards the corner behind them and then knocking on the door. Jasper sighed but complied, getting himself hidden out in the adjacent hallway.

There was muffled talk inside the apartment, but no actual movement. Victor knocked once more and yelled "Landlord," when silence fell on the other side in his best authoritarian tone.

A couple seconds later steps approach and the bolt clicks open. The buff - and now shirtless - guy Annabelle had lured down appeared out the door, hurriedly trying to snake himself into a shirt. Jasper could see Nelli smirking and drinking in the young man's physique, though she remained silent.

"I'm a little busy, wha-- wait. You're not the landlord!" the dude gapes, and more steps echo. "Hey, stop!"

He peeks over the corner just in time to see Victor being shoved out the doorway.

"Run, Annabelle! Run!" the lacrosse player yells into his apartment.

"Chris?" the woman's voice echoes from afar, startled.

 _Great..._ Jasper sighs.

He considers to rush out so he can see where the girl will be attempting her escape from; But, as he is turning to get out... Jasper sees Victor rushing back inside with a dark glimmer in his eyes. Blood coils in the pit of his stomach, as Nelli also noticed and quickly tried to hold Victor back - but too late.

 _The Beast_ was out.

"Fuck!" Jasper curses, running out his hideout.

A couple feet into the apartment, lacrosse boy - Chris - is pressed against the wall with Victor's tall frame bent over him, pinning him down. There is screams and moans mixed with growls, that likely have been heard through most the neighbouring apartments. The young man is bigger than Victor when it comes to muscle, but nowhere as tall - or strong as a famished supernatural creature. As much as he tries, his arms are unable to move the frenzied Ventrue's sharp fangs out of his neck.

Jasper dives into the apartment and grabs Victor's shoulders, trying to untangle the vampire from his prey without slashing the human's neck open. Nelli stays behind them in the doorway, trying to spot their target's escape route without being hit by the two squabbling men or staining her dress.

It doesn't take much effort to pull Victor back. The ventrue seems to be coming to his senses when Jasper reaches him, but still, the Jasper pushes him away from the limp human for safe measure. He is a weak, moaning mess as the ecstasy from The Kiss slowly fades into dizziness and pain, clutching to the open gash in the nape of his neck.

"What is wrong with you?!" Jasper growls as Victor still stares at the young man menacingly, his suit and beard washed down with fresh blood.

The ventrue glared at him with ragged breaths, then looked away, wiping some of the blood of his mouth. Jasper sighed in exasperation, snarling to the annoyance.

 _This was gonna be a long night._..

**\------**

Chris' apartment was modest, made out of a wide common living room and kitchen, then two doors; which Annabelle guessed were a bathroom and a bedroom. There were trophies and sports posters decorating the hallway and living room, and some unwashed dishes by the sink.

"Come on in. Uh, make yourself comfortable." Chris hurried after locking up the door.

Annabelle chuckled to his courtesy and nerves, following him down the hallway. She wished this felt less awkward after a week, but the guilt bubbling down inside her felt almost as uncomfortable as the hunger.

The door he led her to opened to his bedroom. It was filled with clothes all over, lacrosse and workout gear, and a computer. She looked around, setting her purse on the bed.

"So, how do we..." Chris cleared his throat.

"Right, yes." Annabelle chuckled, zipping her purse open. "Uh, I'll just need you to show me your arm, and..."

Turning around she was met with Chris taking his whole shirt off. As she presumed, the sight was impressive; the jock had toned muscles and abs like Mark could only dream of. And she'd needed to be blind not to linger for a moment, before her nerves got back at her.

"Well, that works too." She laughed.

He flashed her a smug smirk and extended his left arm. Before she could compose herself and properly hook the bag in though, there was a knock on the door. Chris froze.

"Uh, hang on. I'll sort it out, maybe it's the landlord or something." he grimaced apologetically.

Annabelle felt a dry, burning wave of anger soar through her chest. She had to physically shut her eyes and swallow it down, biting her lip not to snap at the poor dude. It wasn't his fault, but the _thirst_ stabbing her didn't care.

"C-Can't it wait?" she chuckled, trying to seem nonchalant.

Chris offered a small smile, but seemed unsure. Then a couple more knocks echoed in the hallway.

"Landlord." a man shouted.

Annabelle grimaced, rolling her eyes. "Ugh..."

"Oh, man..." he huffed, grabbing a random shirt. "Hold up, I'll be right back. Uhm, make yourself at home."

"Alright, alright. It's cool." Annabelle sighed and nodded, sitting down in the bed as he strode out.

She looked around oddly for a while, playing with the needle she still had in one hand and Elle's locket with the other idly. She could hear Chris clicking the lock open and snapping impatiently at the visitor, which made her smile a bit. Chris was no Elle or Mark, but he _was_ nice in his own way. She was lucky to have met him... it felt wrong to keep asking her other friends. They looked so sick now from helping her so often...

Suddenly though, the conversation outside exploded into a mess of yells, growls and clashing sounds. Annabelle stiffened, letting go of the locket and the needle.

"Chris?" She called out, hesitant.

"Run, Annabelle! Run!" Chris shouted out to her, and more crashing sounds exploded down the hallway, followed by a mess of other voices.

Annabelle shot up out the bed, impulse kicking in. "Chris?!" She yelled.

When the only answer was more screams and a savage, growling sound, Annabelle grabbed a lacrosse stick from the corner of the bedroom and yanked the door open.

She wasn't sure what she expected, but it _definitely_ wasn't the mess she found.

Chris was slumped against the wall by the front door, pale and limp, clutching to his neck. There was a pool of blood oozing down his shoulder, its scent making Annabelle shudder and her mouth water... though the notion of her hunger acting up even in a moment like that made her disgusted with herself. On the floor a few feet away from him, a tall black man in his mid thirties growled and huffed like a wild animal, wiping out a mess of blood out his mouth with the back of his hand. The savage, beastial expression in his face didn't match the elegant black suit and social blue shirt he was wearing.

The sight was scary enough on its own, but it was nothing compared to the horrifying... _thing_ looming over him.

Annabelle had never seen something so horrendous, and she could barely even _see much_ of it from the bedroom door. Despite being humanoid, the creature's body was weirdly disproportional; overall it was tall and lanky, with wide shoulders and a prominent hunchback, but skinny limbs that were noticeably too long. It had it's back to her and was dressed in black from head to toe, but Annabelle could still see it's boney, protruding shoulder blades and hip bones through the fabric. Its thin arms ended in long skinny hands, of ash gray skin and claw-like fingernails that were gripping the blood soaked man's shoulders tightly.

"What is _wrong_ with you?!" the thing snarled in a deep, hoarse male voice, that thundered animalistically across the apartment.

Annabell gripped the lacrosse stick tighter. The bloodied man said nothing to the creature's accusation, simply looked away. He got up - which made him nearly a foot taller than the _very_ tallhooded figure - the man simply cleared his throat, taking a long deep breath and adjusted his tie.

But doing so, his eyes fell on Annabelle, and the rage from before was back in his features. "We need to talk!" he barked at her, pointing.

She braced herself for a fight when the man stepped forward, but the hooded creature blocked his way. It gripped the man's shoulders again, shoving him back a few steps.

"Well, first off..."

A sultry female voice rose from the hallway, accompanied by market stiletto steps. It's owner was a beautiful, dark blue haired woman, dressed in an elegant form-fitting black dress and blood red jewelry. She walked with the grace and elegance of a modern, fashion diva version of Morticia Addams.

" _You_ need to calm down." She sighed, pointing at the dark skinned man with disdain, then closing the door.

 _"_ Yes. _Please."_ The hooded creature sighed, though it sounded more like a snarl.

Annabelle took the chance to rush down to Chris' side, the lacrosse stick still in hand. He was paler than a paper sheet, barely conscious. "Oh, god, Chris." she lightly shook his shoulder, trying to get a reaction. "We, we have to help him! He--"

Before she could even finish, the hooded figure stepped closer to the black man.

"Fix him." He growled, pointing down at Chris. " _NOW."_

The tall man didn't appreciate the order. His jaw locked and he huffed, glaring at the creature fiercely. Annabelle tensed at the weight of their exchange, though the creepy whatever-it-was didn't seem as phased.

"Argh!Fine." The dark-skinned stranger scoffed.

He kneeled down beside Chris and grabbed the boy's wrist, yanking it away and revealing two arching wounds made by sharp fangs in his neck. Annabelle felt her stomach clench with both the smell of it _and_ the confirmation of what had transpired, though the latter was far more terrifying. Because this meant she could _finally_ get some answers. Those strangers clearly were... _Like_ her... Even though they didn't seem to be there on friendly terms.

When the man pulled Chris' closer by the back of his neck and started to languidly lick the wound, Annabelle snapped out of her shock.

"Oh my god, what are you doing?!" she screams, "Get _away from him!"_

Anabelle pushes the stranger away and swings the lacrosse stick towards him. Despite the close distance, the black man backed away just as the bat swapped in front of him, barely scraping his nose.

"We're cleaning up YOUR mess!" he growls indignant and wide eyed.

Anabelle's eyes widened.

"Excu--mine?!"

"Na. Shh." The diva clicked her heel on the floor, pointing her sharp blood red fingernail at Annabelle like a mother shushing their child... Well, or a dog considering the condescending tone of her voice. "Calm. Down."

Before she could begin to protest, the pale deformed creature bent down closer to her, its eyes fierce in menace as it pointed one long boney finger to her face. Annabelle's eyes widened when she looked over; the creature's face was twice as terrifying than its silhouette. It had big, glowing silver eyes glaring down at her from the darkness of its huge, baggy hood. All she could see of its face was a long nose, thin lips and shallow cheeks of the same impossible corpsy skintone of his hands.

"Sit. Down." he growled.

"No!" She yelled, swinging the lacrosse stick against its hand.

What had been inpatient anger before now bubbling into self-righteous, bewildered rage. She positioned herself better in front of Chris, who was now completely down on the floor looking half comatose. As she turned back to their attackers, though... something caught her attention. Right before her eyes, the puncture wounds in Chris' neck that the man had just licked started closing down. Annabelle stared dumbfounded, unable to believe it. But there was no denying it; in a couple moments, Chris' skin was whole as if nothing had ever happened. The strangers stood around her, observing in silence.

"A-Ann-Annabelle?" Chris moans out, bringing her eyes back to him. "Annabelle?"

"Chris? Yes, here, I'm here. It's ok." she hurriedly scooched closer, helping him sit down. His eyes are half open, eyebrows frowned in confusion. "God, I'm so sorry..."

"Are, are you alright?"

"Y-Yeah, yeah. I'm okay." she gulps, worry and guilt consuming her like oil thrown over flame. "Are _you_ ok?"

"Well, I felt better..." he groans vaguely, rubbing his neck.

"Uh. Well, you're making jokes so... That's, that's a good sign." Annabelle breathes out a small nervous laugh. "Just s-stay conscious, okay? Stay awake. It'll be alright."

He nods to her dizzily, not looking fully awake. Annabelle makes sure he is safely against the wall before flinging herself up and turning around, jaw locked and breath fuming. She grips the stick tighter than ever and pulls closer, ready to yell the bastard's out of there...

But chokes when she turns around to a gray, boney finger a millimeter away from her.

"Shh. Just--"

The creature demands before she can even start, and the surprise of nearly poking her own eye into his claw silences Annabelle long enough for him to gather his words.

"Contrary to... what present events imply," He glares at the couple behind himself, before turning back to her. His voice is calmer now, though it still kinda sounds like Batman. "We're not here _immediately_ to hurt you."

While Annabelle is _trying_ to decide how to take those words, a frustrated click of tongue makes the creature turn around.

"Oh, don't frighten the poor child." the elegant diva sighs as she approaches Annabelle with open arms. "Come, dear. Let's sit down."

The hooded figure frowns at the woman when she walks straight past him, confused and noticeably offended. "I was just trying to be nice." he mumbles to no one in particular, leaning against the door. The pout in his voice catches Annabelle off guard.

Meanwhile, the lady casually snakes her arms around Annabelle's shoulder and pushes her unceremoniously to the living room. The two other strangers follow a couple steps behind them. Chris gets on all fours and shuffles away from them, slumping himself on the floor by the opposite side of the room.

"Pst. You. _Stay._ Just- go, go away." The diva shushes towards Chris with a disgusted frown. Annabelle's eyes widen at the outrageous gesture; she waves him away as if he is a stray dog trying to lick her fancy dress.

"Chris, J-Just lie still for a moment." she cooes to him apologetically. "Everything is gonna be ok."

He nods to her with eyes closed, trying not to fall asleep. Then, shaking the woman's hand away from herself, Annabelle glares down at the intruders. "You guys. _Better._ Start. Talking." she growls, pointing her armed hand at them. " _Now._ "

"Are you going to hit me with that stick?" The pale creature mocks tediously. He's leaning against the archway dividing the living room from the hallway, hands crossed over his chest.

"Depends on what you tell me and what you're gonna do next." Annabelle glares at him but the creature simply grins, wickedly amused.

He slowly holds his hands up in a mocked surrender, long slim fingers sprawled on each side of his jagged, sharp-fanged grin and laughs. The sound is dry and hushed, weird in his guttural voice. Annabelle feels a shiver go down her spine to the sound and his expression, but the frustration of not having been taken seriously burns heavier than her fear.

"Don't move!"

"You know, I wouldn't speak to _him_ as such." The lady casually advised, bringing Annabelle's attention back to her. She had her legs crossed and one arm draped over the back of the couch, in a way that accentuated her silhouette. Her other land was extended in front of Annabelle's lap. "Now, put the stick down."

Annabelle scoffed at her condescending, bored stare. When she didn't move, the diva peered at her with a sharper look, nodding to her still open hand.

"Come on." She cooed. Annabelle frowned at her presumptuous motherly tone, still not moving. But the woman simply rolled her eyes and breathed out a giggle. "What? I'm not gonna hurt you. Do you really think _I_ can actually hurt you?"

She gestured widely to herself... And it wasn't an unfounded point. Despite shorter, Annabelle was clearly way more well built and athletic than the delicate, voluptuous woman in front of her. BUT. Considering what she had just seen and the obnoxious amount of reading she had been doing about... well, anything even remotely similar to her _condition_ , paranoia had already settled in about trusting looks when deciding what was or wasn't a threat.

"I, I mean," she started, shifting in her seat. "I assume you're, like..."

The woman raised an eyebrow at her to continue, smiling. The two figures behind her had their eyes on Annabelle as well.

"Like..." the hooded creature trailed off.

"...What?" the dark skinned man hissed.

Annabelle gulped under the thick, heavy tension the room was suddenly filled with. Her eyes wavered between the three in a feeble, ridiculous search for a hint that could spare her of making a fool out of herself. Sure, it seemed fairly obvious. But that didn't make the words any less embarrassing and off-putting to use.

"L-Like..." she tried once more, but her confidence and anger were now wavering into self-consciousness.

"Oh, come on! Out with it already." The lady snapped. "What do you think?"

Annabelle flinched. But before she could try once more, the tall bloodied man stepped forward and raised his hand.

"Actually," he pointed at Chris on the floor. "Let's not have _this_ conversation _here_."

The woman and the creature look down at Chris simultaneously, seeming to only then remember that he was still in the room. And, well, that this was _his_ house.

"Oh."

"Fair point." The creature steps away from the wall and does a vague, wavy gesture towards Chris. "Why don't you do your thing?"

Annabelle tenses when the other man nods and kneels down by Chris' side. When his eyes fluttered open, the man gazes into them with a stern expression.

"Is he going to be okay?" Annabelle asks the woman.

"He'll be fine." The creature answered instead, unbothered.

"Now, Chris?" The black man asked, and Chris' expression suddenly turned even hazier, his pupils blown wide. "I will need you to _forget all about this_."

Annabelle feels weird as she hears the words. It's like they echo in an odd way, almost... Like there is _power_ in them. And, surely enough, once the man finishes Chris shuts his eyes back and shakes his head. The creature pulls his hood further over his face and turns around, his long, claw-filled hands diving to his pockets when Chris opens his eyes back and starts to look around. Leaning by the archway like that, it a _lmost_ looks like any random dude.

"Wha-- uh, what is going on," Chris mumbles, sitting a little straighter. He frowns and rubs his neck uncomfortably, stunned when his hand smears over the blood then confused when he sees the strangers. "Who are you people?"

But there's no panic, or worry. Right before Annabelle's eyes, Chris simply shrugs and stretches down lazily, then turns towards her after his eyes focus a little better.

Had he... really just wiped out Chris' memory? With _simply one look_?

"Annabelle, are you okay?" Chris puts his hand to her knee, worried, but then sighs. "Ah. Hey, that's my lacrosse stick. Please don't break that."

"Huh? Ah, oh." She shakes herself out of her stupor, forcing out a stiff chuckle. "Uh. Sorry?"

The black man looks back to Annabelle, the rage in his expression now subsided into a mild, lingering discomfort.

"What happens now depends on you," he mutters, hands in his pockets. "We need to leave, and we need to do so now. _Without_ him."

He stares at her seriously, but Annabelle shifts in her seat, unsure. Without answering, she held Chris' arm, turning fully to her.

"You okay?" She mutters, worried. Chris still looked pale, but his expression didn't seem so filled with pain anymore.

"Uh, sure." he frowned at his bloodied hand. "Was this really what you meant though? Cuz I thought it'd be different."

The lady beside her frowns.

"What would be different?"

Annabelle grimaced, scratching her cheek lamely as she handed him the lacrosse stick.

"Sorry... Here is your lacrosse stick."

"Thanks." Chris smiles.

Part of her felt tempted to just wait and see what happened, but her gut feeling craved answers far more than safety _or blood_ at this point. She was pretty sure trying to evade those people would be a fool's errand, especially as she still felt their eyes trained heavily on her.

"We can have coffee some other time and chat."

"Sure. So, I'll call ya?" He asked, hopeful.

Annabelle nodded as she made her way out.

"Yeah. See you in Socio."

Meanwhile the black man chivalrously offers his hand to the diva, helping her up. She smiles and slips on a large pair of red sunglasses that had been hanging by her cleavage, then strides calmly out the apartment.

"Bye, darling." she waves at Chris on the way.

"Bye, Chris." the pale creature muttered.

He waved back at Annabelle and the stranger, then flopped onto the couch with a long, strained sigh. Annabelle turned to get her bag in his room, but nearly slammed onto the hooded figure, who was just coming out of said room with her bag hooked over one of it's wide lumpy shoulders.

"Uh, thanks?" She reached for the bag tentatively, but it simply stood there, unmoving.

When it was clear she'd have to move first, Annabelle hesitantly gulped her panic away and started walking. When they crossed the front door, the creature closed it behind them. The lady was waiting beside the black man out in the hallway, adjusting her hair while he typed in an expensive looking smartphone. When Annabelle got a few steps away, he stuffed the golden phone inside his suit.

"Annabelle, right?" The man asked, now definitely calmer. She closed her hands in fists, wary, but nodded. "Look. We're going to answer all of your questions, we just _cannot_ do it here. Do you understand?"

She nodded, but remained stiff. Stuck in place. Annabelle wanted to run off or say her mind as confidently and self-assured as always, but... she couldn't. Be it for the man's imposing size difference to herself, his weird companions, the fact he was still covered in blood or all the weird things she had just witnessed and didn't understand... Annabelle _knew_ that he was no regular businessman, shady senator, or gangster. No one like the usual types Mark, Ellenore and herself were used to handle and put in their place during the protests and movements.

No... There was _something_ about this man that demanded respect as much as her fear, on a primal level. Something dangerous.

"Are... are you..." she started, her voice barely above a mumble despite her firm glare at the man. "... are you going to hurt me?"

"That depends."

The hooded creature's raspy voice mumbled, reminding Annabelle his presence behind her. The black man frowns when he does, but gives up whatever he was about to say when the creature's eyes meet his.

"What?" the thing frowns, puzzled. Then, it slouched one of his arms and let her bag slide out of his shoulder, offering it back to her.

Hesitantly Annabelle picks it up and hooks it across her shoulder, just as the blue haired diva's arm snaked itself around her again.

"Come now, darling. There are... better ways to meet lacrosse players if you want." The lady cheered with a smug, almost snobbish sort of warmth. "Let's go. We'll teach you. Well, _I'll_ teach you." she murmurs, winking. "I'm better at it than they are."

Annabelle wasn't sure what part of her mind to believe as she let herself be led forward by them. The mixed signals from all of them were starting to make her head spin... it was all happening way too fast.

Then, as if on cue to that thought... The bloodied man halted and turned around when they reached the staircase.

"Annabelle..." He muttered, staring at her thoughtfully. "Sociology student Annabelle?"

The question caught her off guard, it almost sounded like an accusation.

"Uh... Yeah...?" she trailed off, hesitant.

The frown in the tall man's expression deepened into a stare of terror, and he suddenly turned sickly pale. His jaw locked, his eyes widened. Annabelle wasn't sure what to expect, but the lady and the hooded figure at least seemed just as confused.

"Are you dating a guy named Mark?"

And then her mind exploded.

Maybe it was all the blood, or the adrenaline rush. But, as soon as Mark's name rolled out of that man's lips, a spark flashed in her memory. She knew him. She had seen him, multiple times, in a particular photograph. He was the man standing beside her boyfriend's graduation picture, down in his dorm room. The man she had heard so many heartfelt venting sessions about, but had never actually met. That they both kept up with in the news and social media, and argued and ranted about for hours every time his name came up.

"Mr. Temple...?" She gaped in absolute disbelief.

Mr. Temple muffles down a long, exasperated sigh with his hand. If it was possible to look any more shocked, Annabelle was sure her eyes would have rolled out of their sockets.

" _Great._ It _is_ her." He groans.

The sentence made the silence in the hallway shatter. Behind her the creature scoffed out a quiet chuckle, and the woman let her arm fall out of Annabelle's shoulders.

"She knows you?" she demands, an arched eyebrow raising above her sunglasses.

"She is dating my son." Mrs. Temple breathes out as if the words weight a ton, pinching tightly the bridge of his nose. At least he seemed to be having just as much of a mental breakdown as Annabelle was... And so did his companion.

"Ah." The blue haired woman froze.

" _What_?" the hooded guy gaped.

When Mr. Temple didn't evade or glared down at his question, the creature's raspy low snickers evolved into a loud, growling laughter. The sound was gleeful just as much as animalistic; still creepy, though in a mischievous way.

"Wait so, who's the-- Lemme get this straight, there's a--" The blue haired woman started, snapping her glasses off to reveal a confused, shocked and kinda hurtful frown.

"Oh, I'm sorry." The creature muttered at Annabelle, still in its laughing fit.

She had no brain power left to react though, too caught up on the fact that her father-in-law was in front of her covered in blood. And that she had just half-witnessed him attack one of her classmates for no reason, _and_ magically wiped down his memory of it.

"Wait-- Does _he_ know about...?" Annabelle trailed off, almost choking.

"NO." Mr. Temple hissed urgently, then looked around and lowered his voice. " And he will _never_ know. I -- In the car, we'll talk in the car."

The blue haired woman though was still lost in her own shock.

"But... Lacrosse player--"

" _In the car._ In the car, in the car. We'll talk-- _We will talk IN the car._ " Mr. Temple snapped when the woman started talking, glaring at her pleadingly and severely. "We're not gonna hurt you. We're not-- We're _NOT_ \-- going to hurt her."

He assured Annabelle anxiously, then turned to the others with a deadly, commanding glare. Especially to the hooded figure, who immediately tensed up to it.

"I didn't do anything!" The hooded creature barked, indignant.

"Yeah!" Annabelle swung Mr. Temple's hand off her shoulders. " _You're_ the one with blood on your suit."

"Exactly."

He seemed to only then remember the mess he was dressed in. He sighed with disgust at the splatters of blood still all over his shirt and suit, but took a deep breath and shrugged it off.

"That's why we're _leaving_." Mr. Temple paraphrased.

"I don't have blood on _my_ suit."

Mr. Temple frowned and glared impatiently at the hooded creature mumble. "You're not _wearing_ a suit."

"It's a type of suit." The thing shrugged, unconvinced. Annabelle couldn't hold back a chuckle.

Despite its creepy physique, she had to admit the dude had style. He was wearing a well fitted black hoodie that went down over his hips and had the hem stylishly thorn, dark jeans and heavy duty black boots. It was very simple, but badass looking too in its own way; especially in contrast with his odd gray skin.

"Oh, dear Lord. Okay!" The woman sighed, gesturing to the front door. "Let's just--"

"Yes, _please._ " Mr. Temple begged.

"Alright! Alright. Let's go." Annabelle finally surrenders.

Mr. Temple groans in relief when they finally start moving. They all descend the stairs in silence, the blue haired woman adjusting her hair and putting her glasses back on when they reach the front door. Mr. Temple opened it for them, waiting for his companion and Annabelle to cross by before walking out himself. The hooded figure, pulling his baggy hood even further over his face, hides his long hands again in his pockets as he crosses, shutting the door behind himself.

Barely a second later, a large luxury black SUV parks in front of them. The windows were tinted dark enough that Annabelle was barely sure where the painting ended and the windows started. The driver side has the window down, revealing a very attractive young woman with long black hair by the wheel. She was dressed in mechanical clothes, some oil and grease visible in the fabric and hands as if she had just been messing with an engine.

"Mr. Temple," the woman gives a short nod, "Where do you want to go?"

"Just drive for now, Ib." He sighs, then opening the car's door to Annabelle and the other two. "Uh, in the car. Please."

The lady got inside the car without a second, and despite some hesitation, Annabelle joined her in a seat behind her. The hooded figure is seated beside Annabelle, and Mr. Temple sits beside the diva. Once all doors are closed, the car slowly moves away from the college. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COTERIE: A group of kindred that, be them friends or not, work together and have domain of a certain place or area.
> 
> SANCTUM: The main place in their domain, usually safe and secluded from human eyes, were a Coterie usually meets (and sometimes lives).
> 
> CLAN: A vampiric bloodline; whenever someone is turned, they'll belong to the same clan the Kindred who turned them belonged to. Each clan has its characteristics in both physical and personal aspects, and usually tend to have a certain pattern of personality and moral standards. They have also very especific and different supernatural habilities and weaknesses.
> 
> NOSFERATU: Jasper's clan. A clan of vampires known for their horrifying physical deformities and stealth, information-gathering habilities. Nosferatu's can never show themselves in public, for their looks alone are a breach of the Masquerade (most are VERY non-human). Not very well liked by other clans either. 
> 
> TOREADOR: Nelli's clan. A Clan of vampires known of their passion for arts and beauty. They are often times very dramatic, extremely beautiful, and people-oriented... be it on a good (friendly, compassionate) or bad way (vain, attention-seekers). Hang around mostly either around nobility/wealthy people, artists or their "fans". 
> 
> VENTRUE: Victor Temple's clan. A clan of Vampires known for their leadership and greed. They are very good manipulators of people and excedinly power hungry, usually found between business people and famous personalities. Don't usually hang around the common folk, can be quite prideful and vain as well. 
> 
> THE BEAST: Every Kindred spends all their unlife fighting their hunger, and when it becomes too strong, it drives them to loose control of themselves and act on pure, raw, completely irrational survival instinct; regardless of the consequences or any moral code. This frenzied version of themselves is called The Beast. Some deep emotional triggers or Fire/sunlight (the biggest - and one of the only - danger for Vampire's un-lives), can also trigger the Beast to come out.
> 
> THE KISS: Feeding, which vampires call "the Kiss", is an incredibly intoxicating and erotic experience for vampires and their victims, akin to both sex and falling in love. The victims become paralyzed with euphoria, preventing them from escaping, and dulling their senses to the environment. The vampire experiences a head rush as well as its carnal hunger is being satisfied.


	4. Scenic Route

Once the car is safely in motion, the creature sitting beside Annabelle sighs and stretches against the seat, and the way he seems a lot taller now makes her look his way. Although his spine is still clearly twisted forward, the hunchback from before had considerably subsided. 

_ He was forcing it…  _ She notes to herself, curiosity spiking. 

Then, when he slid the hood off, Annabelle understood _ why _ . 

The creature’s ash-gray skin is covered in dark, protruding veins webbed all across his bald scalp, that cover all except his ears and face, and continue down his neck. The back of his head is misshapen, covered in lumps and cavities; as if someone used it as a punching bag. His ears are long and slightly pointy, and his big eyes were sunken deep into his head. They have an odd, darkened layer of dry skin around them that keeps his iris with a faint sort of luminescence even now that they’re not in the dark.

Though… Looking now so close - and with less growling involved -, Annabelle notices he looks… Well, pretty much like any dude in his mid twenties. Severely beaten up and malnourished, sure, but surely not  _ that _ monstrous as the hood and batman voice made him seem to be back in the apartment. That thought makes Annabelle very uncomfortable with the stereotypical way her brain immediately entitled him a  _ thing _ so far, even though he had been the only one not really doing anything creepy or offensive. 

It’s not until he turns his face fully towards her, one thin eyebrow arched up, that she realizes she had been staring.. Annabelle turns her eyes to the floor quickly, guilt overflowing into her. 

“Sorry.” she mumbles.

“What?”

There is a long pause, and she sees through the corner of her eyes that he is staring at her with a confused frown, rather than any offense.

“I, just--” she stutters, before peeking once more at his corpse-like skin and his big clear eyes, then turning her eyes back down. “It’s rude. Sorry.”

On either side of her both the lady and the pale man himself choke down. 

“No. It’s really not.” He snickers, and there is almost… an amused endearment on his tone. And indeed - when Annabelle looks back at him, all she sees is him observing with odd curiosity. Still holding back a laugh. 

“Ugh! Come on,” the blue haired lady snaps their attention back towards herself. “Out with it.”

And just like that, all the eyes in the car are over her again. Annabelle stares at them, at first in a blank, before recalling what they mean for her to say… But the word is still stuck in her throat. 

“UGH!” she groans, dropping her face in her hands. “This is really stupid. It’s really, really stupid!”

The strangers watch her mental meltdown in silence.

“Is, uh, there a name…?” She tries, biting her lip. “For, uh... what’s happening?”

It looks like they all are going to continue waiting for a moment, but then the pale man raises a finger. Annabelle turns to him, relieved. 

“One thing, before we get to that question.” he clears his throat. “I was following you, for a little while. And I think ‘what have you been  _ telling _ other people?’ is a better question.”

“Uh, I-- Just that I have this… Genetic disorder that is starting to manifest. And, that... I need... blood?” The lady and Mr. Temple exchange a skeptical look. Hoodie guy, too, seems utterly underwhelmed. Annabelle cringes, self-conscious. “T-There is a lot you can get away with if you know how to e-edit Wikipedia properly, okay.” 

“Alright, as long as there are--” the pale man sighs, tilting his head. “You didn’t use any… word? You know, maybe related to books?”

“Or movies…?” Mr. Temple squints his eyes meaningfully.. 

“I can’t say  _ ‘Vampire’  _ !” Annabelle  _ finally _ manages to yell out. 

The lady groans. 

“Oh, god.” the pale man sighs in both relief and exhaustion. “Yes.”

“Of course I didn’t! That’s not-- Not--” Annabelle stuttered through her embarrassment and anxiousness, gritting her teeth to the bare thought. 

Mr. Temple takes his focus out of the conversation and starts to shuffle out of his suit, so she turns her eyes back to the pale man. Seeing her boyfriend’s father changing clothes was  _ not _ something she was eager to add to the list of uncomfortable things she had gone through on that damn night. 

“Oh, god. My god.” 

Annabelle buried her face down on her hands again, trying to hold back a fit of nervous laughter. When there’s no more sound of fabric shuffling, she looks up and tries to steady her breathing. 

“Okay. So. Does Mark--” She starts on impulse, but halts. There was no way he  _ did _ know… She had tried talking to him about it not even two nights ago, and he had not really believed her. “How long have you been hiding this from him?” 

Mr. Temple, now fully dressed in a clean black shirt and a tie, looks back at her and lets out a long sigh. He turns around in his seat, facing her despite the position being clearly uncomfortable for his stature. 

“No. Listen, we’re going to talk about Mark later. But I need--” He raised his hand, but then his expression stiffened. “Wait, have you--”

“I think he just thinks you don’t-- You haven’t seen him in like, a year, and--” Annabelle continues talking over him, unable to stop herself. “And, and, why did you do that to Chris? I--”

All the tears of her boyfriend’s vulnerable, heartfelt talks about his father and their broken relationship come into her mind and mingle with the mess she just witnessed. Despite her still present hesitation and fear around him, more than anything now Annabelle really  _ really _ wanted to get up and slap the hell out of that man’s face. But there was more here than Mark’s side, and her mind held on to it before lashing all her pent up anger out. 

The question seems to stir something inside Mr. Temple, whose frown deepened into an accusing, menacing scowl. He bends forward in his seat closer to her.

“Have you done-- Have you done this to Mark? Have you  _ fed _ on Mark?”

“No!” Annabelle jolts forward, outraged. 

“Okay! All of you!” The lady yells, pushing him back towards his seat. Beside Annabelle, the pale man does the same to her. 

“Yes,  _ before _ we get into that...” He glares at Mr. Temple, then to her. 

She looks between him and Mr. Temple, who does the same before sitting back, breathing out and adjusting his tie. Annabelle hesitantly does her best to school herself down as well. 

“Thank you.” the blue lady nods, then waves her hand to the pale man. “Jasper, go ahead.”

“So, that word--”

“Yes, Jasper! You have the conch!” Annabelle yelps, slapping the pale man’s arm. 

There is a long, heavy, uncomfortable pause as they all stare in shock at nothing then back at her as if she just swallowed a frog.  _ Stupid nerves _ , she curses to herself. 

“What?” the diva frowns. 

“Its, uh, a literary reference.” 

“Right, don’t worry about it. Anyway,” the dude who diva called ‘Jasper’ quickly reassures her before continuing. He seems to be holding back a laugh though, which comforts some of Annabelle’s embarrassment; at least  _ he _ got the joke. “Yes, so  _ that _ word that you used? Don’t use that word. It doesn’t-- We don’t use it either.”

“Vampire?” Annabelle spelled it out.

“Yes, don’t do that. We don’t-- It’s not a thing.” he clarifies. “I mean, yeah, it’s a thing; it’s a  _ word.  _ But it’s not  _ a thing. _ ”

_ “...What?” _ Annabelle chokes in another nervous laughter fit, unable to make any sense of his awkward mess of an explanation. Good intentions aside, apparently talking was definitely not  _ his _ thing.

Jasper sighs, annoyed.

“Look--” 

“It’s not  _ our  _ word.” Mr. Temple comes to the rescue. 

Though the blue lady frowns thoughtfully at that. 

“Isn’t it?” She ponders. “You sure?”

“Oh, my god… My God! Okay!” 

Annabelle rubs her eyes, trying to juggle all those nos, yeses and maybes in her head. All she wanted by now was just to wake up from this messed up drug trip. Yes, sure, She was a vampire, and was riding an SUV with three other vampires - one of which happens to be  _ her boyfriend’s dad -  _ who she may or not have just offended for using the  _ wrong supernatural pronoun _ \- or whatever the hell it was called. Right. Great. Yup, perfectly sane. Just what she needed.

“Look at me.” Jasper calls out patiently. “Look--”

“Okay. No, no, Okay. I understand.” Annabelle breathes in and out, managing to school herself again after a long sigh. “Uhm. So, what is the  _ preferred _ term? That, that you-- I mean, that… w-we--”

“There are a couple, but the one we usually use is ‘Kindred’.” 

“Kindred?” 

Jasper nods.

“Kindred.” Annabelle repeats to herself. It did sound less cringey than ‘Vampire’, at least. “Okay.” 

“I mean, we don’t go around saying it, but that’s what we call each other.” Jasper explains further while she tested the word, which makes sense. People didn't usually go around introducing themselves as  _ humans  _ in every conversation, either. “Or ‘Licks’, if you’re not feeling particularly nice.” 

“Okay. Alright.”

“Yea. Now, look--” Jasper continues again, but then frowns at the other two. “...Why  _ am I _ doing this?”

The blue haired lady shrugs with a soft chuckle, but does nothing; clearly too amused with the scene to interfere. Mr. Temple, beside her, just readjusts himself on his seat.

“Who is your sire?” he asks thoughtfully. 

“My what?”

They all wait a while longer, despite her blank stare. After the silence finally became uncomfortable enough for them, Jasper groans out a heavy sigh and jumps to the rescue again. 

“Your, um- How do I put this...” 

“Your maker.” Mr. Temple offers, more determined. “Who did this?”

“Who Embraced you?” the lady suggests.

“Your vampire daddy.” 

The SUV freezes with Jasper’s chosen suggestion, then erupts in a mix of annoyed chokes and hysterical laughter. Annabelle can even see the driver woman - Ib - peeking back through the mirror with a judgemental frown.

“My  _ vampire daddy-- _ ”Annabelle is sprawled against her seat, laughing both out of surprise and humor as much as annoyance for this  _ horrible _ timing. She can hear the lady choking in outrage in the seat ahead of her. “I thought I can’t use that word!”

_ “WHY!?” _ the lady croaks through a disgusted mumble.

“You literally  _ just told her _ not to use that word!” Mr. Temple thunders in agreement, laughing loudly.

“I am using words she can understand!” Jasper protests, his hands up in exasperation. “Do you think she knows what  _ ‘Sire’ _ means?”

“Great! great! Great, great!” Annabelle tries to control her cackles, pushing in another deep, almost hurtful breath. “No, I don’t! Actually.” she shrieks in a mix of leftover nerves and laughter. “Thank you!”

“Well then.” the lady facepalms. 

They all take a second to breathe down and recollect themselves. When Annabelle turns back to them, all expressions are stern... Almost worried. She can feel herself shifting under those stares, uncomfortable. Vulnerable. Under the mess of hunger and weirdness that last week was like, Annabelle had been admittedly trying her best to  _ avoid _ thinking back on it. She is not sure she can keep her poker face up if she gets too much into this, let alone if it’s safe to go revealing what really happened to strangers… Even worse, actually - to  _ Mr. Temple _ . 

“Uhm. I-- I don’t, I don’t know.” she manages to mumble out. “I don’t know.” 

There is a brief silence again, but there is no tension this time. The three strangers stare at her quietly, understanding. They believe her. Annabelle feels herself relax under those looks, though the prospect seems somewhat odd… All things considered. 

“So, I’m going to go on a limb and say that,” Jasper starts a few moments after, “The reasons that there have been these flu-like symptoms that we’ve heard so much about on campus is because you’ve been _ feeding. _ ”

Annabelle shifted uncomfortably to the word ‘feeding’, but nodded. “Yes.”

“But, this-- This is fine. You didn’t say ‘vampire’, you got permission.” Mr. Temple quickly started listing, hopeful. “You haven’t killed anybody?”

Annabelle’s eyes widened. 

“No!”

“Okay, good.” Mr. Temple smiled, his eyes switching to his two companions as he nodded. “No no, this is good. we can work with this.”

Jasper also seemed more at ease. “Yeah.”

“But, wait. What do you mean this is--”

##  “We have to take her to the Baron though.” Mr. Temple spoke above her. 

Annabelle frowned, her previous thought gone. He was talking to his companions, and there was a worried frown now back over his eyes, and both Jasper and the Lady seemed uncomfortable as well. 

“We have to.” Mr. Temple shrugged, his hands gesturing  _ it’s not my call. _

“Not  _ yet _ .” the lady protested, wide-eyed.

“Wait. The  _ who _ ?” Annabelle frowns. “The  _ Baron? _ ”

“Uh, um.” Mr. Temple raised his hand to get her attention. “He’s--”

“You’re putting me on!” Annabelle cried, indignant. 

Then Jasper patted her shoulder, his boney fingers cold to the touch. 

“Our boss.” he explains, with a small humorless - almost sarcastic smile.

“Well, your boss too.” Mr. Temple adds with an arched eyebrow.

Jasper chuckled as he let go of her, cocking his head to the side. But while they all nod emphatically to that statement, Annabelle throws them a disbelieving, skeptical glare.

“I don’t have a  _ Boss. _ ” She scoffed. 

“Oh, you do now.” the lady turned on her seat to peek at her.

“Yup, you do.”

“You’ve got a boss now.” 

They all repeated as if that was a piece of common knowledge and not up for discussion, which made Annabelle’s frown deepen. But, before she could press further -  _ ‘Will I Find My Home’ _ echoes out of her pocket. Her stomach twists, and all eyes turn back to her again. 

"Who's that?" The lady frowns as Annabelle picks up her ringing phone. 

"Um, its..." Annabelle clears her throat. "Sorry, I need to, just-- All of you,  _ be quiet! _ I need to take this."

They all frown indignant with her request, but she accepts the call before they can argue. Immediately, Ellenore’s voice is there, and Annabelle is on the verge of crying. 

_ “Hey!” _

“Hey babe,” She smiles. 

_ “Hey, are you done? Are you coming back?” _

“Uhm...No,” Annabelle mumbles, biting her emotions off. “I, Uh.. There wer--” 

She can hear the frown in Elle’s voice as she fumbles stupidly with her words. Around her, the strangers frown and mutter amongst themselves, clearly tense and uncomfortable all over again. 

_ “Belle, are you ok?”  _ Elle's worry is palpable. 

Annabelle can’t help but sigh. 

“No, I am not.”

_ “What is going on?” _

“I’m… In a car with some people tha-- I met Mark’s  _ dad-- _ ”

A loud forced cough echoes inside the car, snapping Annabelle out of her sentence. On the other side of the SUV, Mr. Temple is glaring at her severely and shaking his head, the lady in blue beside him face palming with exasperation. Jasper, beside her, is staring wide-eyed at nothing as if someone just punched him.

Annabelle clears her throat, uneasy all over again. 

_ “Wha-- Mark’s dad? Mr. Temple?!” _

Something cold grips her and, before Annabelle can react, the phone is yanked out of her hand. “Hey!” She yells, but Jasper’s long arm is holding the call too far away from her. When she leans forward and gets close to it, he pushes her back and clicks out of the call. 

“What the hell?!”

Annabelle glares at him, then the others; but the severe expression in their stares bring a chill down her spine. Mr. Temple leans forward in his seat slightly, pointing at her.

“One of the first things that you  _ need _ to understand,” He paraphrases, then gestures to all of them and the car. “Is that  _ we  _ don’t talk to  _ people  _ about any of this.”

“We don’t tell  _ anybody? _ ”

“No!” Mr. Temple repeats.

Annabelle frowns, outraged. “ _ Wha- _ -You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Oh, I think we can.” Mr. Temple and the lady beside him chuckle acidly. 

There is a long, heavy silence as Annabelle stares down at Mr. Temple. Her chest heaves and her jaw clenches. This -  _ this _ was the kind of arrogant, bulshit attitude they had been fighting for so long now. And, supernatural threat or not, there was no way Annabelle was simply gonna sit down and swallow that. Not when it came to Ellenore. 

“No. You. Can’t.” she growls at him, fists closed. “I am a grown ass woman and  _ you’re  _ a deadbeat father!”

_ “Wow, Ouch.”  _ the blue haired lady laughs, eyes wide. “Shots fired!”

Mr. Temple sighs and turns to give instructions to the driver again. The car continues to drive smoothly through Hollywood as they talk, avoiding traffic through side streets. Annabelle doesn’t really recognize this area, and a sliver of panic strikes her when she realizes she is not sure how long they have been chatting, or where they’re leading her.

“Can I handle this?” The blue haired lady bends around her seat again, looking at the two men while Annabelle is distracted with the view outside. “Are you all done?”

Jasper bends closer and looks like he is about to say something, but cocks his head aside and gives up, getting back to his seat and signals a wide  _ be my guest _ with his hands. 

“Wonderful. Now, darling - woman to woman. Talk to me.”

Annabelle breathes in and out slowly, glad that the woman - now at least - seemed a lot less bossy than the two - or her previous demeanor, actuall. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiles, and this time the arrogance and over-the-top poshness from before are not there. “Listen. What you’re experiencing is quite the tragedy, and I understand. We all went through it.”

There is a heavy silence inside the car, as the view outside slowly shifts from the quiet side streets to the busier city center. Mr. Temple, now done with his directions, is sitting sideways back on his seat; but his expression is brooding, half his face buried in his hand. Jasper still has his eyes on the window, expressionless, but his attention is not really there. Though Annabelle doesn’t regret it, part of her anger cools down with the realization she clearly struck a nerve with all of them, somehow. 

“It fucking sucks.” She chokes. 

“Yeah, feel that. It’s rough.” The lady nods. “Everything you’ve ever known is gone.”

“Great.” Annabelle sniffles and looks away with a dry, sarcastic chuckle. The tears from before again trying their hardest to make an entrance. 

“It’s the truth, you have to accept it.  _ But,  _ the good side is,” the lady cooes to her in a slightly cheered tone, though it somewhat feels forced. Unlike the last two sentences, it doesn’t seem her heart is all in it. “You get to keep your face. You can still go out, and do what you like to do under the moonlight… So long that you  _ don’t _ tell anyone our secret.”

Annabelle breathes in deep, before turning back to the woman and observing her eyes carefully. Then, to the other two who are still oddly silent and thoughtful. And the message in their eyes is as sad and serious as in the blue haired woman’s eyes. 

“You don’t… have people that you trust this with?” Annabelle frowns. “I mean… What is the point of living if you don’t have somebody to share it with?”

This time Jasper blurts out a low, quiet chuckle and turns back to her. The lady, too. 

“We’re talking about it now,” Mr. Temple arches an eyebrow. “Do you feel any better?”

“Um. I am getting a couple of answers, so… A little bit. But also things are very confusing so, no. I don’t know, it evens out I guess.”

“Let's try to put this in a way that you - as a student - would understand.” Jasper starts, but the smile on his face puts Annabelle off. It’s sarcastic, dry… Very different from the amused yet calm, helpful demeanor he had a while ago. “Think about it this way. You, being what you are, have people you love in your life. Right?”

She feels reluctant to encourage him, but nods. 

“Then people - other _ ‘people’ _ like us -, who may not like you as much, find out that you have other people in your life. That you love.” She frowns to the way his voice escalates as he goes on, angry and almost hurtful. Before she realizes, her mind is already painting a picture of what he is getting to - and her hand is on Ellenore’s locket. “What do you think happens to them?” 

Still bent over the seat in front of her, as if there was even need to confirm it, the blue haired lady slides one of her long, beautifully manicured red nails across her throat. Annabelle gapes, dumbstruck at the grim message he was leading her to. 

“You wouldn’t.” her voice was barely above a whisper. She stares at him, then at Mr. Temple and the woman; shocked, scared… but also  _ defiantly _ . “You  _ wouldn’t. _ ”

Jasper growled in frustration, rolling his eyes. 

“I wouldn’t,  _ I  _ don’t care.” he spats. “But other people might.”

The silence was thick enough to be cut with a knife, once more. Annabelle’s hand tightened around the locket as she measured their expressions attentively, still filled in cold dread - but there was no threat in their eyes. No power play or second intentions. Just… A sad, actually heartbreaking sort of warning. The way harsh, unfair truth and reality checks feel. 

“Now you know why you haven’t seen me around my son.” Mr. Temple says, and the way his voice is low and  _ honestly  _ raw, in both sadness and offense, sounds weird in comparison to the confident businessman persona he had up until now. “Because the  _ last  _ thing I need is someone trying to get to me through him. Trust me, none of us  _ wants _ to not be with our loved ones, either. But we  _ have to _ \- for THEIR sake even more than for ours.”

“Why...” she relaxes a bit, but worry shifts focus. “Why would somebody...”

“Because we, as in Kindred,” Jasper says slowly,and despite still sounding a bit wicked and creepy, he sounds a bit calmer and indifferent again. “Most of the time don’t tend to like each other very much. Regardless of who you are.”

The lady and Mr. Temple nod to his reasoning matter-of-factly.

“This level of cooperation is unusual.” 

Mr. Temple gestures to the three of them.

“When you work for the Black Baron, it happens.” The lady sighs. 

Annabelle feels rocks inside her chest, and she needs a moment to process it. It was hard to keep up with the emotional roller coaster that night had turned itself into, going from gothic horror fantasy all the way down to sly, deadly mafia bullshit. The kind that the movies make no one survives in, and everyone loses. 

Sure, Bram Stoker and Underworld had given her a good amount of nightmares about the danger of personal connections and the consequences of revealing the wicked nature of Vampires to regular people, along with many other pop culture sources Elle and Mark had helped her look into. But, somehow, the ridiculousness of it all actually being reality - despite the undeniable proof - had managed to keep Annabelle still hopeful that, deep down… Maybe this was some bad dream she would be waking up of at any moment. Or some sort of disease or scientific misunderstanding she was reading too much into. 

There was no way she had randomly been turned into this fantasy dark, evil leech like… Monster, who in stories always had such dark realities around them. Always surrounded by so much loneliness. So much death.

This… This had to be a joke… 

Right?

“I mean, hey. Plus side,” Jasper mumbles after a long, heavy couple of minutes, his voice back to the friendliest tone a gloomy, batman-like voice like his could possibly reach. “As long as you don’t do anything stupid, you get to live forever.  _ Yay... _ ”

He widens his eyes and waves his hands to the last bit, pushing his voice up a notch in a very awkward and forced attempt to make it sound cheerful. Though the entire gesture only lasts a moment. Mr. Temple joins in on the little cheering sounds, though his attempt is a little less uncomfortable to hear than Jasper’s, and lasts longer. 

“I’m almost 70.” Mr. Temple adds proudly, puffing his chest. 

And this does make some of her stupor fade, eyes wide in awe. Unknowingly her eyes trail to the blue haired woman, curious. She seems to be around her 30’s, but it's hard to tell how far. Definitely close to Mr. Temple’s - well,  _ apparent - _ age, but for sure a bit younger. 

“A lady doesn’t speak her age.” she declares with a wave of her hair when she feels Annabelle’s eyes on her. 

“They’re older than me.” Jasper mumbles soon after. 

Annabelle doesn’t manage to fully make herself smile, still too horror-struck with this crazy reality check, but does appreciate their effort… Regardless of the obvious underlying mockery tone it had. Then, out of Jasper's hoodie,  _ Will I Find my Home _ echoes once more. He carefully digs it out and extends her phone within view, but still out of reach. 

"Now, smooth things over and don't tell her.  _ Please? _ " He requests with an exaggerated, cringing smile in the last word, still not handing her the device. Annabelle breathes in to hold her temper, before nodding. Jasper evaluated her expression for a long moment, then  _ finally _ handed it to her. 

"And it  _ wasn't  _ Mark's dad." Mr. Temple demanded, seriously. 

“I’m not gonna lie to my girlfriend!” Annabelle hissed. 

Mr. Temple and the blue lady’s eyes went wide as saucers, then frowned almost as quickly. “GIRLFRIEND?!” they both gasped in utter confusion. 

Annabelle growled in frustration at the judgmental stare and shook her head; so typical… An entire year dating and surely only a fucked up family like the Temple’s not to know of his own son’s life to that extent. Great, not only she was a vampire, but also thought of as a cheater by her stupid in-law now. Perfect first impressions. 

Annabelle shrugs it off and recolects herself as she looks down to Ellenore’s picture in the caller's ID, then gulps down and accepts it. On the other side of the line, Ellenore’s sigh of relief is immediately against her ear.  _ “Hey," _ Ellenore’s voice smiles, still worried.  _ “I love you." _

And there they were; the tears were right around the corner. 

“I love you too…” Annabelle chuckled, sniffling to keep them at bay. “I need you." 

_ "Oh, I am so yours." _

“Forever?” Annabelle breathed.

_ “Forever.”  _ she doesn’t even hesitate, and Annabelle feels her face getting wet. No one around her comments, and she quickly wipes it out in her sleeve.  _ “Now, what’s going on? Are you okay? You sound awful...” _

“I-- Yeah,” Annabelle mumbles, sighing. God, where to even start? “It’s… been a rough night.”

_ “Well, come home and talk to me about it.” _

“I-- I can’t, I, I’m gonna be out for...” Annabelle gestures questioningly to Mr. Temple, who shrugs and waves his hand with a wide gesture.  _ A long time, overnight _ . Annabelle’s heart sinks to the prospect, but she nods. “Like, a couple more hours maybe? I don’t know.”

_ “Hours?” _ Elle’s scoffs, disappointed.  _ “What are you doing?” _

“I, I just...”

But there is nothing Annabelle can think of an excuse. No real reasoning she believes enough to say without being obvious. With all the emotional and information overload she is already under, there is really nothing Annabelle wants more than just to go back home and sink into Elle’s arms.

_ “...Fine. Don’t tell me.” _ The hurt in her tone stabs Annabelle. 

“No! no, no, no, no. It’s okay. It’s okay.” she hurries, giving up. “Look, just trust me. I, uh… I may be getting some answers about, you know, the thing. Okay?”

Mr. Temple and Jasper groan and facepalm loud enough that Annabelle is sure Ellenore was able to hear, and beside them the blue haired lady stares at Annabelle with an ice cold, disbelieving glare. She gestures for Jasper to snap the phone out of her hand again, but this time, the man doesn’t move. 

_ “Oh… Oh wow.” _ Ellenore gasps, though in awestruck understanding. Despite the glares around herself, Annabelle can’t help but to smile, imagining her girlfriend’s expression. God she misses her already.  _ “Wait, really? REALLY?” _

“Yeah… I know.” she chuckles, exhausted. “So...”

_ “Okay, I get it. I get it. Sorry,”  _ Ellenore quickly cooes to her, sighing in relief. _ “You do what you have to, babe. I’ll be here, call me if you need anything. I’ll keep my phone on. Ok?” _

“Okay.” Annabelle smiles. “I love you.”

_ “Just, be careful ok?” _ She can hear Elle’s smile as she mutters.  _ “I need you.” _

“I, I will. I am yours.”

_ “Forever, babe.” _

Annabelle makes kissing sounds then finally hangs up, closing her eyes with at least a little bit of relief for the first time in hours. The other three wait for her to look back before howling their disapprovement, and she appreciates so. When Annabelle does though, as expected, they explode. 

_ “Seriously?!” _ The lady gapes. “Did you hear  _ anything  _ we’ve JUST said?!”

“Have you told Mark about ‘the thing’?” Mr. Temple questions with a pointed finger in her face. 

Annabelle tenses, then shakes her head. Mark didn’t exactly  _ believe _ her when she told him anyway, so for the moment it was probably safer for her  _ and _ him if they didn’t know about that. Mr. Temple sighs and frowns, unsure but - thankfully - not pressing it further. 

“I NEED you to understand something  _ very _ , very clearly. I am not joking around here, and whatever you think of me doesn’t matter. You  _ need _ to take this very, VERY seriously.” He looked at Annabelle straight in her eyes as he spoke “The place we're going - if you repeat in front of them that she knows about ‘a thing,’ she's  _ dead. _ Everyone she knows _ is dead.  _ Anyone she  _ might have texted _ IS DEAD _.  _ So if you care for her at all, you're going to have to learn from this exact second  _ how to keep a secret _ .” 

Annabelle shivered under the words and the pleading severity of his stare. Not because he looked intimidating, but because of the  _ worry _ she could see lingering behind his frustration and anger. The palpable, begging worry he was trying to convey. That was not being said as a threat… It was a warning, and he meant it fully. Every single word. 

Well, that or he was a phenomenal liar… Which wouldn’t be surprising for someone that was widely believed to be part of criminal business behind his popstar facade. But… The serious eyes of the other two as he proclaimed the whole thing threw that particular belief  _ slightly _ off.

“There's a little show we have to put on - you might call it a sort of ‘masquerade’ that we have to live into, that means: None of  _ this _ is real.” He gestures to themselves and the city, huffing. Annabelle shifted in her seat, butting her phone back into her pocket.“Never in your former life did you think this is real, and it has been the entire time. So, from now on, learn to lie to your girlfriend  _ if you want her to LIVE _ .”

“Or if  _ you _ want to live.” The blue haired lady added somberly.

“That too.” 

Jasper chuckled. But, again, there was no real humor. When he realized Annabelle lingered staring at him, stunned, he cleared his throat and shrugged. 

“I mean, want a bonus? You at least get to go out in front of people. Just saying.”

“Ha! Exactly, at least you don’t look like  _ that. _ ” Mr. Temple laughs and nods, pointing at Jasper’s face. “There's a bright side."

“I didn’t always look like this.” Jasper gestures matter-of-factly to his face, baring his wide and creepy fanged grin to make his point. Annabelle frowns, looking between him and the other two uncomfortably as much as curious. 

“Why do you let them speak like that to you?” she asks in a mumble, just to him. 

Jasper simply frowns confusedly, seemingly caught too off guard by the question to respond… Which, admittedly, bothered Annabelle even further about the whole thing. Where those two always like that towards him? Enough that this was somewhat an expected reaction?

“I always looked like this.” The blue lady smiles, adjusting her hair proudly without the slightest remorse or recognition to Annabelle’s discomfort. Mr. Temple laughs approvingly, admiring her. 

“And you always will, too.” he winks. The woman rolls her eyes, but her smile widened. 

As they laugh and continue flirting, Annabelle sighs heavily and leans back on the seat, looking out the window. The car was moving slowly, stuck in traffic on a highway she finally recognized; they were heading towards the busiest center of hollywood. 

“I’m glad you can all joke about this...” she groans, burned out. 

“We've been like this for a while.” Jasper shrugs. 

“Yeah, you get used to it.” Mr. Temple nods, then clears his throat. “So. We’re on the way to meet some very important people, that will literally decide your fate. Do you have any questions you’d like to put to  _ us _ before we get there?”

Annabelle gaped at him, too exhausted and dumbstruck to even start to formulate a sentence, even though she had a dictionary’s worth of questions and doubts brewing wildly in her mind to the offer.  _ Far _ too many for a single night, let alone a brief car ride. 

“I know it’s a lot, sorry.” Mr. Temple chuckled. “But here we are, and better us than them.”

“Okay. Uh…" Annabelle blinks a couple times, then sighs and just let's the sea of questions flood out. “Why am I  _ always  _ hungry? And why- I mean... Where do I start? Like what  _ happened _ ? Who are these people and why do they think that they can be  _ my boss _ ? What-- How did you find me and--”

“So you don't know who-” Mr. Temple made a vague gesture of claws close to his neck, then sighed. “We call it Embrace, but you don't know who your Sire is? Your creator, your maker?”

“ _ Sire _ means the person who made you what you are.” Jasper repeats quietly. 

“Yes. You really don't know who it was? What  do you remember?” 

“What did they look like? What were you doing...?” The lady encourages her.

Annabelle gulped down her nerves, letting her mind go back down the lane she had been avoiding. That night by the Senator’s office, the day she, Mark and Ellenore had finally decided to take a step ahead. She wasn’t sure how much of  _ that _ part it would be ok to actually reveal, so she cleared her throat and decided to stick to all the events  _ around _ it. 

“There’s… Not much. I was- I was closing up at the coffee shop and there was- I think it was a man. I can't be sure, I just heard a voice. And then I felt- It felt so good. But then the rest of the night is like a kaleidoscope and I just remember little snatches of things.” Annabelle’s voice shook as she forced herself down the events, her eyes watering against her will. “I, I remember his voice, and-and the smell of- Was it citrus, or pine, or something? I'd know it if I'd smell it.” 

She sniffled and buried her face down her hands, trying to focus all her senses into her mind… But there was a frustratingly vague amount of memories there, regardless. Only flashes of the house. The fire. Ellenore and Mark’s voice screaming for her. The darkness, the pain. Long, dark streets. And... 

“And then, there was a room and there was a young man in the corner. He was young. Young...” Her hands gripped each other tightly in her lap, as her eyes swam into the memory haunting every sleeping hour she had throughout that entire week. That room. That fucking, damned room. It’s raw brick walls, the stench of mold and dust, the darkness and filtered neon lights coming from some sign out the window.  _ The excruciating hunger.  _ “And the voice through the door said... that…” She gasped, scared to bring it out into reality. Her eyes fell back down her lap, and the tears finally broke out. “... _ it was a snack. _ ” 

Around her all of them remained silent, simply staring as she broke down and sobbed into her hands. Her voice shrieked and heaved with every breath, unwilling to steady enough to let her keep talking. But no one rushed her though, they simply waited in silence. Observing her, taking it in. 

“And so I-- I don't remember if anything happened or what- I just remember there was a high window and I got out of it. And I just ran.” She wailed after a long while, hands shaking through her _ almost _ controlled sobs, back in her face. Annabelle could feel that her face, neck and shirt were already soaked in tears, but she didn’t bother to wipe it down anymore. “And all I thought of was home. So I went home, and Elle was there. And then she- She said  _ I was cold _ …” 

Annabelle cried and cried for what felt like forever, until she felt a hard, boney hand land on her shoulder. “I... I don't remember anything else!” She bawled through her tears. 

When she looked up, a long moment after, Jasper had already let go of her. He was simply observing, waiting as the others. The blue haired lady had an arm extended towards her, a beautifully laced handkerchief in her hand. Annabelle sniffled, suddenly a bit embarrassed, but… as she reached out to get the small fabric… She realized with dawning horror that her hand was covered in vibrant red blood. Her eyes widened in shock, and grew even wider as she looked down and realized the blood was not only in her hands but also her shirt and lap, too. 

“Oh- Oh my god! My god!” She shrieked, terrified as she reached for her face and confirmed that indeed, the blood was coming - despite not feeling any pain or wound that could produce that much bleeding - out of her eyes. “What is--  _ what is happening?! _ ” 

“No, no. Don’t worry, shh.” Jasper hurriedly cooed, his hand awkwardly going back on her shoulder when her arms started shivering all over again. “That… That happens.”

“It’s ok. You're ok. Here, use this.” The lady urged the handkerchief further towards her, gently.

Annabelle felt dazed though as the warm, inebriating scent of her horrifying  _ blood tears _ invaded her nostrils, reminding her of the unfinished business she had left behind a couple minutes before now…  _ She was famished.  _ Without even thinking, she was sniffing her bloodsoaked hands and licking them clean, sighing in relief as the familiar taste got back into her.

“... Or that.” The lady and Jasper chuckled in surprise. 

“Now, look. I guess… in the most basic way I can put this…" Jasper started once she was done, slowly and carefully, clearing his throat. Annabelle awkwardly got the woman's handkerchief with a mumbled  _ thank you _ , and started cleaning up her face and shirt. “... _ You're dead. _ "

She stared at him vacantly, handkerchief still in hand hovering over her cheek. Annabelle frowned for barely a second, but the expression faded as quickly as it appeared… be it for shock, or maybe because, deep down… she knew it was true. She could  _ feel it _ . Even though she had been trying very hard to ignore it. 

When she didn't cry, screamed or reacted further, he continued.

“You  _ died _ . That's why you're cold, that's why she felt you being cold." He explained. “It's also why you're crying blood right now, because there are no other fluids left in your body."

They all gave her a moment, still quiet, before Mr. Temple now took over with a stern and understanding tone. “What we are, what  _ all of us _ are, is hunger." He sighed.

“Yeah."

“Sweetheart. As a grown ass woman you need to cry us a river, build a bridge, and get over it  _ now. _ " The lady advised with equally serious eyes, but again no judgement or arrogance. “Otherwise you'll have to face the baron like this. You  _ don't _ want to do that."

Mr. Temple sighed through a nod, and a tight apologetic smile. “This is not a safe place."

“Five minutes to the baron, sir." Ib warned from the driver seat.

Annabelle stiffened, but the numbness of having cried out the emotional flood she had been holding back all that week helped her feel less defensive to all their warnings. She sniffled the last of her tears out, took in a deep breath and nodded. 

“Yeah. Okay." She muttered, wiping the last of the blood around her and then awkwardly giving the laced handkerchief back. “Uh… thanks."

“For what it's worth, I personally think we're the essence of humanity.” Mr. Temple smiled with pride, his eyes shining as he spoke. Beside Annabelle, Jasper rolled his eyes and groaned. “We're the essence of the passion--”

“Oh, this again.” the pale man sighed, looking out the window.

“And the strength and the beauty and the power that makes humans, humans. Personally.”

“Sure. Yeah. That's the way--” 

They spoke one over the other, Mr. Temple ignored Jasper’s mockery completely through his passionate declamation. Especially after the last few minutes though, Annabelle couldn’t believe so. But then again, coming from someone like Victor Temple, she supposed she should’ve expected as much.

“Let me ask you something.” Annabelle starts, gathering her thoughts. They all turn their eyes back to her, expectant.“Do you- Do you kill people?” 

Mr. Temple smiles softly. “Did we kill that boy in his apartment?”

“...No.” Annabelle agrees, thoughtful. Peeking at the woman she shook her head with an indifferent expression, then turned to Jasper with an odd look. Annabelle turned as well to him, wary. He stared at her for a long, silent moment, before deciding himself.

“I'm going to say... No. I don't. I don’t kill people.” he mutters, though the cryptic expression in his eyes weights uneasily over that answer. “Doesn’t mean others of us don’t.”

Annabelle looked down at her hands, thoughtfully. She nodded in acknowledgement, but then  Jasper patted her arm again and she turned to him. 

“Look. You, from what you told us, your sire was  nicer than mine. He left you something to eat. Mine didn't. So, again, bonus.” He explained as some sort of comfort, she knew, but the notion made her stomach twist with disgust. 

Then again… To be even more lost than she currently was, through something this terrifying… Annabelle couldn’t even imagine just how terrifying it must have been. Especially if his looks had indeed changed from a regular person into his current one also through it, instead of just his… diet. 

“ _ But _ you can go your whole life - or well,  _ unlife -  _ without killing a single person. If you're good at it. But you will have to live with always being hungry.” He looked her in the eyes as he spoke, and for once, that notion gave her some hope. She could live with anger, hunger, a life with no sunlight… But, if she HAD to kill… Annabelle wasn’t sure she could really stomach that kind of existence. It wouldn’t be worth it. “The only way to not be hungry, at least for a little while, _ is _ to kill somebody. It's the only time you're not hungry.”

“The final, final beat of the heart.” Mr. Temple nodded, somber. And again, there it was - that raw, apologetic look that didn’t fit the unfair, heartless image Annabelle had of him. “It’s the only thing that fills us for long.”

“We're there, sir.” The driver announces. “Shall I park?”

“Yes, please.” Mr. Temple nods to her, then turns back to Annabelle. “So let me tell you the basics as quickly as possible. We have our own government. We have our own rulers. The person we're going to meet is the person that rules this area of Los Angeles. Be as respectful as possible because if you offend them you  _ will die _ and we cannot stop it.”

“How am I supposed to know what _offends_ them?” 

Jasper shrugged. “Just be polite.”

“Just keep your mouth shut.” The blue haired woman scoffed in contrast, putting back her big fancy glasses. 

“Yeah.” Mr. Temple nodded. “Talk to them like they're a loaded weapon... Because they are.”

“And just, if they ask you a question: answer it, but don't _talk back to_ them.” Jasper paraphrased with emphasis, cautiously. Annabelle nodded, focused. “Just let them do the talking.”

“Yes. Short as possible. Yes and no. Respect.”

“Don't look them in the eye.” The lady added.

_ “Respect.” _ Mr. Temple repeated.

“Okay.” Annabelle nodded and breathed deep, taking it in. “Respect. Don't look them in the eye.”

“You might want to do a little bit of a bow, as well, when you see them.” The lady mimicked an old fashioned theater greeting. 

Annabelle’s eyes rolled in annoyance. What was this, the middle ages?

“Are you  _ serious?”  _ she scoffed.

Mr. Temple immediately perched up from his seat, pointing at her. 

“Just- Just- That! Don't do _that!”_ He demanded with a glare. “Don't do that! Follow our leads.”

Annabelle held her face and did her best to swallow down her annoyance with the ridiculous ammount of pomp and bulshit this was starting to pile up to, but nodded regardless. This was a new species, a new type of environment… It was weird to think of an entire type of government existing beyond the known world, but then again, it kinda made sense in a Harry Potter-ish kinda way. Plus, there was no use arguing further with these people about something she didn’t really know of anyway... For now, at least.

“Okay. Alright. Okay. Okay.” 

“She's going to die.” Jasper laughed to himself wickedly, facepalming.

Mr. Temple groaned with a knowing look and a nod to him, chuckling too. 

“She's _ so _ going to die and I'm not-” he started through an exasperated, amused laugh, but then cleared his throat and let out a long sigh. “Okay, no, Mark's not going to forgive me if you die. That's- I want you to know I'm vouching for you  _ for the sake of my son. _ He’s told me good things about you.” Mr. Temple pointed again at Annabelle meaningfully, and she bit her lip with a soft warmth filling her to the notion that Mark, despite his relationship with this man, had talked of her to him. “Please do not get yourself killed.”

“Did you tell me you had a kid, by the way?” Jasper jumped forward with a deep frown, pointing at Mr. Temple. 

He glared down at the pale man with an outraged, annoyed look. 

“No!”

“Okay.” Jasper sat back, still frowning but more relieved. “At least I didn't just forget it.”

“Oh, wow.” Annabelle couldn’t help but laugh as Mr. Temple sighed in exasperation at the fact being brought up again. “I guess you guys keep secrets.”

Then the car halted with a loud break sound against a busy sidewalk. Immediately, all of them tensed up and exchanged a restless look. “Okay. Right. Yes, we're ready. We're ready.” Mr. Temple repeated as a mantra as he groaned and tried schooling his frustration back down inside him, almost more to himself than them, then turned to Annabelle again. “Respect.”

“Yeah.”

“Head down.” the lady pointed. “And bow.”

“Okay. Uh-huh.” Annabelle sighed, nerves kicking back in all over again.

Jasper chuckled, pulling his hoodie’s hood back up. Then, one by one, they all left the SUV down into the busy streets right next to the big, fancy Hollywood and Highland.


	5. The Black Baron

Hollywood and Highland - the craziest part of town, right next to the Chinese Theater. Thousands of tourists out on the street on that Friday night, as expected. The gathering makes the place an absolute riot of sensations, colors, sounds, scents... The sweet perfume of fresh blood hits like a bomb despite that stimuli-party though. Just waiting under the skin, all theirs for the taking. If the Beast had its way. 

Victor and Nelli navigate their way through the people elegantly, in no rush. Unlike Jasper, that ever since his former life would’ve never been caught willingly roaming such areas of Los Angeles, those two _loved_ this kind of place and its natural spotlight. Most people don't have any idea who they are, though some take a few double glances. There are a lot of famous names walking around Hollywood, after all; locals are used to spotting them. And nobody's really ever sure if you are who you look like, or if maybe you're one of those people who dress up and make a few dollars with impersonations. 

So some stare, but thankfully no one interrupts them as they make their way with Annabelle through the crowd. Or when, as they reach the mall, Victor holds the door open and makes an extravagant, dramatic bow to Nelli and Annabelle. 

“Ladies first.” he beckons. Nelli stopped and feigned a bow back at him, smiling through chuckles before walking by him slowly. Annabelle though, seemed utterly disturbed with the display. 

Jasper chuckled to her visible cringe, but took the cue to walk still fully unseen through the open way while she stared at Victor. Victor patiently waited, motioning Annabelle to go inside with a knowing look. She sighed exasperatedly, before finally going along with their little stunt. 

“Why, thank you Sir.” she mocked in a terrible impersonation of a british accent. 

Some people around them chuckled, amused, others even went along with it when walking past them. But that was about it. As much as he hated them, Jasper had to admit the way that pretty much anything was passable with these Hollywood people, especially in the Highland, was pretty handy for their line of work and kind. 

He followed them, unseen, through the subtle code-maze that leads to the Baron's office; the way is pretty much routine, at this point. They go to the very top level of the Hollywood and Highland Center, around the escalator, past that weird statue of the winged thing - Jasper had no clue exactly what that looming over Hollywood was supposed to be - then call the right elevator, ring the bell twice - and twice _only -_ then skip the first car and wait for the second. 

Then, even though they called it to go up twice, it takes them down. Straight to Abrams.

“This is fine. Fine.” Annabelle mumbles to herself as the elevator starts to move, clutching to the pendant around her neck. 

“So, we’re probably already being monitored.” Victor mutters to her as the elevator goes down, nodding to the camera above them in the corner. Annabelle frowns when she notices it, then nods. “We’re just going to introduce you to the boss. Be cool, and this will be the first day of the rest of your un-life.”

Annabelle cringed, frowning at him.

“How long have you been waiting to say that line?” she groaned. 

“And don’t forget to bow.” Nelli insists, serious. 

From the looks in her eyes though Jasper is pretty sure even the newby can see through the Toreador’s joke. Well, that and he doubts she’d actually go through with it even if she did buy so, considering her attitude. Despite seeming to be just a few years younger than himself when he was turned, the girl seems to have the mood swings and maturity of a raging teenager. 

Victor rolls his eyes to her. 

“Just-- Respect. _Respect._ ”

Jasper lets himself be visible once the doors are closed, though his hood remains safely still in place. 

“He’ll take any you can think of. Every joke, every pun - will be used by that man over there.” he sighed at Annabelle, pointing at the not-at-all-sorry Ventrue beside them. “Just… get used to it.”

“Ah…” She threw Victor a look. “ _Dad_ jokes.”

Nelli bit back a chuckle. 

“I mean,” Jasper couldn’t hold back an amused smile. Immature or not, he had to give her props for her sharp sense of humor even in such a situation. “You’re dating his _son..._ ”

“NOT in _here_ !” Victor glared at the two of them, growling the words between his teeth as he nodded at the camera again. Still, Jasper snickered. Oh, he was _so_ not seeing the end of this anytime soon.

“Secrets, secrets..” Annabelle scowled in mumbles.

The elevator finally stopped. Ahead of them the long, vacant corridor leading down Abram’s office becomes visible, two of his ghouls dressed in dark tracksuits stand midway as they step out of the metal box. They nod at them, respectfully, then wave them to follow along after turning around and taking the lead. The security guards guide them all the way to the end of the hallway and open the doors, waiting as the Baron himself comes into view from behind his fancy mahogany desk. 

Isaac Abrams' office is a pretty accurate reflection of himself. The place looks like a movie set from the 40s; everything from furniture to decour is unbelievably historically posh. It has overstuffed leather couches and easy chairs, big potted ferns and palms, a lot of brass, a lot of glass, a lot of lighting designed to make people look their very best, a lot of mirrors... 

As soon as he spots them, Abrams stands up and walks around the desk, nodding and smiling cordially. “Nelli, great to see you again.” he greets as the Toreador flips off her large glasses. 

“Darling, it’s always a pleasure.” she smirks with a slight bowed nod. 

“How are you?”

“I am fantastic, How are you?”

“Top of the pops. Top of the pops. Victor, looking sh-” the baron starts, but then frowns with an odd, judgemental look down Victor’s suit. He motions to it, unsure. “Um, hm."

“Hm.” Victor sighs and shrugs, disappointed but not surprised. 

They continue their hummed code-talk about their attire, whatever those hums and looks might mean, before Abrams sighs and slips his hands down his pocket. 

“Eh -- it’s fine. How’re you keeping?”

“As well as can be, sir.” Victor sighs back. 

Abrams then turns finally to Jasper with stern professionalism. 

“Jasper.” He nods. The nosferatu chuckles out an acid growl to his disguised appreciation, which the baron - as usual - ignores. “Nice to see you too.”

“Nice to see you.” Jasper lies back at him cordially.

And that’s when his eyes fall over Annabelle, an eyebrow arched. He studies her, intrigued, before smiling. Ahead of them Jasper can see Nelli and Victor stiffening ever so slightly; they’d be holding back their breaths, if any of them actually breathed. 

“And who do we have here?”

“A new visitor to your domain, sir.” Victor explains.

He motions for Annabelle to step forward. She does, albeit hesitant and still scowling defensively at Abrams. Nelli discreetly elbows her arm as she passes by her, whispering _‘bow’_ , but the girl ignores her. Abrams simply waits. 

“I am Annabelle and I would like some answers.” she demands, almost growling.

Jasper holds back the impulse to facepalm; He is not sure even why he is so surprised, considering her whole performance and bickering in the car. This girl was definitely gonna get herself killed before sunrise at this pace... 

When Victor and Nelli groan and sigh beside her though, Annabelle sighs. 

“...sir.” she adds, clearly unwillingly. 

“Would you indeed? Hm.” Abrams mutters, his expression unreadable as he looks her up and down thoughtfully. His eyes then snap towards Victor. “Where did you find her?”

“She was on the campus of griffith college. She uh, has not breached the Masquerade… _But_ she hasn’t been taught our ways either.” Victor stepped forward. “We brought her here to introduce you properly, and find out how you’d like us to proceed with her… Education.”

“She doesn’t know who her Sire is.” 

“She doesn’ know _anything._ ” Nelli corrected Jasper with a long sigh.

The baron scratched his chin thoughtfully as they spoke, arms now crossed in front of his old fashioned light brown suit. His eyes were fixed on Annabelle, who still stared at her defensively, shoulders stiff in a confident bravado despite her obvious uneasiness. Her hands were closed down in fists, and, for the first time in that evening, she seemed to have stopped breathing. An unconscious impulse Jasper remembered he also had, back when he had been firstly turned. 

“Is that true, Annabelle?” Abrams asked her, calmly. “You don’t know the one who made you?”

“No?” She gulped, looking at Victor and Nelli. 

Abrams leaned back over his desk, half-sitting against it. 

“Annabelle, when did this happen to you?”

She looked away with a thoughtful frown. 

“What day is it, friday?” she asks at Jasper. 

He shrugged. 

“Yes, it’s friday.” Victor nods. 

“Uh… Nine days ago?”

“I see… You’ve been busy.” Abrams nods, thoughtfully. “Let’s trade. I’ll answer your questions, if you answer one for me.”

Annabelle’s posture softens a little. 

“Okay.”

“What did they tell you about me?” 

The baron nods towards Victor, Nelli and Jasper then waits. They all watch as Annabelle continues trying silently to check with them, clearly caught off guard by the question, before looking back at him. 

“Uh. That I was supposed to bow to you?” she eyes Nelli.

“I see.” The baron chuckles, amused. 

The Toreador sputters against her own hand, chuckling. Victor smiles too, looking away innocently as Abrams arches an eyebrow at the duo. Annabelle watches the exchange with a cringed frown in her face, unphased. She had indeed foreseen the joke. _Not THAT naive, then._ Jasper concludes, pleased. Maybe she still had a chance, after all.

“Haha… I wasn’t supposed to, huh?” she laughs stiffly, now glaring at Nelli. “Uhm. Anyway, but yeah. They, uh, said that you’re ‘the big boss’ and… That’s pretty much it. I had a _lot_ of questions, and I got back a lot of… Not much. So.”

“Everybody have a seat, make yourselves comfortable.” Abrams interrupted her with a smile, motioning for the sofas on each side of his desk cordially. “You too, Annabelle.”

“Uh, right. Thanks.” 

They all sat around the Baron, who waited still leaning against his desk. Nelli and Victor sat by each other’s side, while Jasper chose the couch in front of them. Annabelle, to his surprise, followed him to it and plopped herself beside him. 

“Let’s start from the beginning.” The baron smiled, then put a hand to his chest. “My name is Isaac Abrams, I am the Baron of Hollywood.” 

When Annabelle frowned uncomfortably at the word _baron_ Victor glared at her and mouthed the word RESPECT at her _,_ but Abrams simply chuckled. 

“I know how it sounds, but that’s the title we use. I also seem to have become the Baron of the Valley as well recently, which I'm really not all that enthused about, it's just extra work… But we'll figure that out later.” Abrams then gestured to Victor, Nelli and Jasper. “You’ve met my associates. These Kindred have rendered very effective services to me in the past, several times. So, in return for their help I’ve given them control over Griffith College.”

“Control?” Annabelle frowned again. 

“Mm, it's their ‘domain’. They're _supposed_ to keep it free of trouble!” The baron glared fiercely at them despite his controlled tone, the icy disapproval clear in his eyes. Annabelle froze as the change in demeanor happened, but said nothing. “So you answered my question truthfully, what do you want to know?"

“Okay, uh, I guess…” Annabelle gapes, unsure. “just anything?” 

Abrams nods.

“Why- Why did I- Who did this to me?”

“I don't know, but I intend to find out. What was done to you was wrong. And whoever did it must be found and punished.” he assured her, his eyes briefly lost in his thoughts. “Even among the movement, the Anarchs, that sort of thing… Isn't done."

Annabelle gulped down and nodded, quietly. “O- Okay.”

She finally seemed to be realizing the kind of position she was in. Then again, Jasper had thought the same just a few moments ago, when she calmed down from her little breakdown… So what did he know, really. It was surprising for him her little naivete had kept Abram’s pride from bashing her into her Final Death already. 

“Well, at least not in my barony. Not now. Not with the Inquisition breathing down our necks.” Abrams rectified when he realized the look in her eyes, cordially. “There was a time when we Embraced rather freely, almost casually… But not any more. It's too dangerous. So I don't know, but I'm going to help you find out."

Annabelle though, seemed even more confused now than she had been before. Jasper could see she was holding back another tense, nervous fit of laughter from the way she was half-frowning, but still somewhat wide-eyed, biting her lip.

“Great. Okay.” She took in a deep breath, sighing exasperatedly. “Uh, I don't know what Anarchs or Inquisition is, but I guess I could probably get like a glossary or something later from these people.” She _almost_ rolled her eyes, but thought better. Some anxious chuckles escaped her, but she closed her eyes and tried to disguise them under a few deep breaths. “Uh. Um. Ha. Hah. Okay.”

Abrams waited a brief moment, before snorting at her effort. 

“We don’t have… A textbook or a primer, but we do educate.” He assured her. “We’ll get to that in a few minutes.”

“Great. Okay.” she nodded. 

“What else do you wanna know?”

“Uh...” They all waited expectantly as she cringed through whatever thoughts she was trying to select, looking down at the center table with a comical frown. 

Jasper remembered that look, it was the first look she had when they got in the car and she was cringing too hard to ask them what she wanted. _Oh, no._ Jasper sighed, bracing for the stupid. And, surely enough…

“How accurate are ‘Interview with a Vampire’ and ‘Queen of the Damned’?”

The entire room bent down in dissapointed, exasperated laughter. Victor and Nelli bent against each other, chuckling in anxiousness and amusement, and even the Barom himself was smiling. Almost endeared. Jasper rolled his eyes, groaning into his hands. 

“We did a lot of research and there was a lot of confusing information and,” Annabelle continued on her rampant questions, oblivious to everyone’s humor. As she said this though, Jasper froze. He cringed down at the girl’s slip, and stiffened even more when Abrams’ smile visibly dropped into a questioning frown. “Like, I did wake up like half in the sun and it _really_ hurt, but--”

“Annabelle,” Abrams interrupted her sternly. The tone in his voice broke the room’s mood instantly. “Who is ‘we’?”

Jasper closed his eyes. On the other side of the room, Victor let out a deep, strained sigh… And, for the first time in that damn evening, Annabelle was pale. Speechless. When the Nosferatu’s eyes opened, Abrams had his head cocked to a side with a serious, fixed stare on a very blank-faced Annabelle. 

“ _‘We’_ did a lot of research.” He repeated, his eyebrow arched. “Who is ‘we’?”

“Ah. Uh, I was- Just watching movies with friends and stuff.” she stuttered quietly, shrugging. “But they don’t know anything, I- I didn’t--”

Jasper could _feel_ her enhancing her persuasion paranormally, the same way Nelli and Victor so often did… His eyes watched Abrams quietly, but he didn’t react to the pathetic, ammateur attempt at fooling an Elder like him. _Oh, this stupid kid is so gone…_ Jasper sighed, holding back his exasperation. 

“Mm.” The baron simply frowned as he un-crossed his arms and got off the table, his expression unreadable. “Well, we can come back to that later. Now, if you’d excuse-me, I need to make a phone call.” 

He started making his way to an adjacent door by the left side of the room, nodding as he passed by them. Victor and Nelli were piercing holes down Annabelle with their eyes as the baron made his way, but schooled themselves when the baron opened the door, one hand down his pocket. 

“In the meantime, talk amongst yourselves and explain a few things about our condition to your new friend. After all...” he smiled at first, then his expression melted into a demanding and clearly pissed off scowl. “You are going to be in charge of her _education_ for the foreseeable future.”

Victor’s and Nelli’s eyes widened impossibly. 

“What- Wha- Eh- Ah--”

“Wha--”

“Excuse me,” The baron smiled at their shock, satisfied. “I'll be back after I've made my phone call."

And then finally walked out the room, shutting the door behind himself. 

Jasper bent back against the sofa, a loud, guttural wave of laughter spewing out of him to the unbelievable turn of events. _Great_ . _Just great_. As if working with two vain attention-seekers was not troublesome enough, he had now to worry about being an edgy fledgling’s babysitter, who had likely just gotten herself far more trouble than she can stomach just because of her stupid attitude. This night kept getting better and better by the minute. 

_“We?!”_ Victor growls at Annabelle, indignant and looking oddly pale.

Nelli beside him is just as wide-eyed and outraged.

“Okay, first of all -- NO!” She hisses, barely containing herself from yelling. “Why would you-- Res- _RESPECT!_ ”

“Respect!” Victor remarks at the same time.

“I don’t owe _him_ OR you guys _anything!_ ”Annabelle scoffs and finally lets out her temper all over again, eyeing the duo up and down with an impatient scowl, meeting their glares with no hesitation. “I don’t _know_ you! All this happened to me, and no one is giving me answers, and--”

“I am going to kill her.” Nelli fumes down to Victor while Annabelle is still talking.

“And, you all seem to be part of this… Crazy monarchy that I _do NOT_ want to be any part of--”

Victor groans as his hand falls down his face. 

Nelli hisses down again, sharp nails digging down her palm. 

“I am going to _kill her_.” 

“I-- What do--” Annabelle sighs in frustration once she realizes neither of them is actually listening to her, then turns and grips Jasper’s arm. “You seem, like, reasonable. What am I supposed to do? Why do _you_ follow their orders?!”

He frowns, peeking at her.

“Why do I follow who?” Jasper chuckles in disbelief, pointing back at the door Abrams vanished into. “ _His_ orders?”

“Yes!” She scoffs.

Her eyes, once again, catch him off guard though. Annoyance aside, the way she stares at him directly, with no quals or hesitation - actually, even more at ease than she seems when looking at Victor And Nelli - is weird to him. As if he is just any other person, a notion he honestly had forgotten how it was like - _especially_ coming from a stranger. Though Jasper supposes that should be expected of someone stupid enough not to realize the extent of danger she is currently in, even after all she’d seen. Even an idiot could see that _this_ was no place to hold down to a righteous code and challenge anyone head on... _Or_ to be that careless with her own loved ones. Charming and naive as she might be, her raging, emotional rebel reactions were getting old. 

“I follow his orders because if I don't I get left in that sun that hurts so much. _That's_ why I follow his orders.” Jasper hissed through a sarcastic grin, glaring down at her slanted puppy eyes with no regard for her frowning, increasingly worried expression. She _needed_ to understand the position she was in, or she’d get all of them killed. “I work with _them,_ ” he pointed at Nelli and Victor. “Because if I don't I get introduced to the dawn. _I_ do A LOT of things _just_ so I cam keep living.”

Annabelle held his stare for a long, somber moment. 

“Why do you... Accept that?” she asked, her tone barely over a whisper.

Jasper shrugged. He was done with being nice. 

“You don't have to accept it.”

“Would you like to do the alternative?” Nelli arched an eyebrow and nodded to the closed windows behind Abrams’ desk, her voice peaking with impatience and outrage as she glared coldly at the young woman. “We can show you _right now_.”

Her silence was heavy now; and, for once, didn’t seem just shocked or reckless. Under their reprimands and sarcasms, he was _finally_ being careful. Thinking. Feeling wary of bolting into any reply. Though the three of them were far too unnerved by her delay on it to compliment her on it now. 

“Speaking to you as someone that has been _feeding_ , I think you understand the need for self-preservation that flows through all of us.” Victor checked the door before sighing and getting into their conversation, making sure to keep his own voice a few notches lower than needed. “So if you want to _preserve yourself,_ get it together. This is _really_ not a joke.”

Annabelle’s eyes followed each of them as they spoke, reluctant. Then, more silence set in while reality downed in through her expression. The same way it had done so back in the car… And hopefully now permanently. 

“Okay. All right.” she mumbled.

“It's a game that we all play so that we get to keep doing _this_.” Jasper softened his tone as he gestured to himself and to her. When her stare remained on him somewhat blank, he continued. “Talking. Living. Walking.”

“Seeing our _loved ones_ .” Nelli hissed coldly. That one _did_ seem to hit Annabelle properly hard, as her eyes reddened with contained blood tears. “...Even if from afar.”

“Well, some of us.” Jasper chuckled dryly. 

“I told you. If they find out, if _anyone_ were to know anything… That person's life WILL be _forfeit._ ” Victor repeated with pleading eyes and tone, bending forward as if proximity could make that girl’s stubborn head finally take the facts in. “Therefore, it is important that none of us ever tell anyone _anything._ ”

Before she can answer to any of them though, the Baron returns through the door he exited from a few moments ago, adjusting something in the inside of his well fit suit. “Sorry, I had to take that call."

“Business is business.” Victor smiled at him, unbothered. 

“Where were we?” Abrams walked around him and Nelli then sat on the other side of his desk, back on the actual chair behind it this time. After a moment’s thought, he smiles at Annabelle. The fact she is now very quiet and clearly still shaken up seems to please him. “Oh, yes, the films. I love films. I was in the biz, you know. Still am in a way, but… More indirectly now.” 

His eyes go back towards Victor at this point. 

“Speaking of which, got a proposal for you later, a new property I think you might be interested in." He nods, and Victor’s eyes sparkle with renewed interest. “Needs investors, but we'll cover that."

“Absolutely.”

“You have arrived on the scene at a rather awkward time for Los Angeles. As I'm sure your new friends will be happy to tell you later, this city was once controlled by our faction: the Anarchs. A good name for us.” The baron sighs proudly to Annabelle. Her expression shifts to one of curiosity and interest as she listens. “The Movement goes back hundreds of years, to the 15th century.” Abrams muses, but then holds his hand up in warning. “And, no, I'm not that old."

“You don't look so.” Annabelle says quietly. 

“Thank you.” The Baron smiles and nods. “Times are difficult and the Camarilla, another faction of vampires - a sect, if you will - has decided that it would like to take back what it lost, back in the 40s. I just got off the phone with Therese down in Santa Monica. There's some disturbance, I don't know. She said there was a cougar or something, running around at the docks. I'm going to loan her some people to check it out.” 

He frowned with some confusion at the idea, and Jasper exchanged an equally curious look with Victor at the news too. Wild animals in the region were not something recurring, at all. As the Baron sighed though, exasperated, they both turned their attention back at Abrams. 

“Things are a mess. Nobody's heard from MacNeil in forever. Rodriguez is just sitting downtown refusing to get involved, even as the jackbooted thugs of the Camaria breathe down our necks."

“Is there anyone you would like us to... motivate?” Victor offered. 

“Well, I would like some answers.” Abrams weighs his options. “What I'm hearing is that Vannevar Thomas has left his seat in San Francisco and has set his sights on this city, including my Hollywood. And that he's brought his whole court with him. Word is that they've abandoned San Francisco."

“Have we retaken it?”

“They haven't abandoned it _to us_.” The baron shrugged. “No one seems to know what's going on.”

Nelli and Victor exchanged a long look.

“Anyway. In the meantime, we can't afford to have strays.” Abrams clapped and smiled cordially at Annabelle, looking at them with a clear warning. “But until we know who committed this act, I'd like you to stick around."

“That's very gracious of you.” She said. 

“Yes, it is. I don't _have_ to.” The baron made sure to transmit all the weight of those words in his tone, and definitely the fledgeling had felt it this time around. Thoughtful silence echoes between them for a few long, dreadful seconds, before Abrams gets his friendly and welcoming act back on. “ But I think that we'd all be intrigued to know just who you really belong to.” 

Jasper could see her shoulders tensing up and coiling down against herself ever so slightly in his peripheral vision. Even more than how she physically was - especially in comparison to him, Annabelle now looked _small_. Frail. Not the loaded, reckless weapon she seemed to feel herself to be when they got into the office.

“So, my friends, meet your new pupil. You have the rare privilege of being her teachers, her educators, her saviors, because if she learns, everybody's happy, including me.” The Baron smiled with theatrical glee to make his point, then dropped the act into the demanding, imposing glare that earned him the title of _Black Baron_ . “If she _doesn't_ , I guarantee you nobody will be happy, _in particular, me_.”

They all nodded at him with no hesitation, and his stance relaxed a little. 

“I'd like you to take her to see the witch, too."

Jasper’s eyes are the one to sparkle this time, curiosity pulling him despite the grim prospect the mission entailed. Nelli and Victor though both drew in a long, uneasy breath before nodding. Annabelle observed them, her wide-eyed frown making her look even tinier. 

“Uh. By the intake of breath, I take it that that's not a good thing...?”

“No, it’s fine.” Jasper cooes to her. 

“Clan Tremere.” The baron waves to her dismissively. “They'll explain."

“Okay...” 

The Nosferatu promises with a nod when her eyes go back to him. She still seems unconvinced, but lets it go anyway.

“I've made arrangements - Griffith Observatory. Tonight."

“Now? To- To--” Victor stutters, surprised. “Ah, w-”

“Soon.” The baron shrugs, but his eyes squint to his babbling. “Do you object?"

Victor immediately shakes his head. “Never.”

“This should be outstanding." There was a wicked smirk in Abrams’ expression, his eyes squinting further before they relaxed and his eyebrows arched up as he asked again. Expecting, almost _daring_ him to say so. “ _Do you_ object?"

“No, no, I do not object, sir.” Victor assured him once more, his eyes humbly down. “Not at all. I just--”

“That would surprise me." The baron chuckled, relaxing once Victor’s submission brushed his ego. Jasper kept his eyes low, as did Nelli, though he could see that Annabelle observed the exchange with frowning, wary eyes. Especially her father-in-law. “Victor, Victor, don't worry. I've asked her just to find out a few things about our friend, Annabelle. After all, she has no reason to be curious about _you_ , does she?"

Annabelle’s eyes finally went down when Abrams challenged Victor’s poker face with his firm glare, the uneasiness in her eyes selling her out if the Baron had been paying enough attention to it. But, as usual, Victor played his role skillfully. 

“Not at all, sir.” he shrugged with a carefree smile. “I like to keep things calm and smooth.”

Nelli muffled down a derisive laugh. Victor elbowed her ribs meaningfully when Abrams cocked his head to the side and peeked at her. 

“Calm and smooth. _Calm and smooth_.”

“Oh, mm. Yeah.” Nelli choked out, though her acting expression was hardly even trying to seem convincing. “Yup.”

“Before we say good night. Annabelle, is there anything else you'd like to know?” The baron asks with a sigh, patient. Annabelle seems surprised, frowning and checking with the cotery if she really should, which the Baron smiles pleasingly to. “I don't generally answer a lot of questions like this, but I'm feeling particularly generous."

They all shrug to her, waiting. When she is sure the call is indeed hers to make, Annabelle gazes out into nothing for a short moment, before clearing her throat and looking back up to the Baron. She doesn’t seem sure, and there is a… rawness in her eyes. A vulnerability that suits her delicate frame and facial features more than the edgy, fiery power of her personality and clothes. 

“How…” she whispers, her eyes growing red again. “How do I go back?”

Jasper looks away, giving her at least a small degree of privacy; and to hide the sting that her innocent, pleading question brings to his chest. A question he had forgotten by now, but that he himself had asked so many others long, long ago. When his first conscious nights happened. 

The baron frowns though, not catching her meaning. 

“What do you mean? Back to campus?"

“Heh.” she swallows, breathing in before continuing. “No.”

Ahead of them, Victor groans out an exasperated, pitiful laugh, throwing his face down his hands while Nelli unashamedly bends back against her Ventru partner in a scornful, surprised fit of laughter. 

“Oh, she's so young. She's so young...” Victor whines through his chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Let her speak. Nelli.” The baron quickly chasticized, glaring at the duo with defying severity. “ _Let her speak._ ”

Immediately, the couple does their best to hold back their carefree, scornful fit of laughter. Jasper scowls at them with a sigh, not surprised. Of course _they’d_ never feel the weight of that worry anymore, looking like they did. Having all they had. Discreetly, the Nosferatu took the chance to peek back at Annabelle. She was stiff, eyes cast down and… oddly hopeless. Even tinier now, beyond her natural height… The small, vulnerable stance of a scared, lost child. She was holding herself back impressively, but was obviously on the verge of tears. 

Once the duo was properly under control, the baron turned back to Annabelle. 

“Go back?" he asked, his eyes oddly soft.

Annabelle needed a moment to gather enough composure to try and speak again, though her expression and whispered, embargoed tone revealed her effort far more than she seemed comfortable with. Still, she breathed in and repeated anyway.

“How do I go back to being human?”

“Hm. That is a question that many of us have asked over the decades. I'm very sorry to tell you that... You can't.” The somber composure the Baron maintains is respectful and considerate, and he gives the topic some more thought before continuing when Annabelle’s eyes continue hopeless fixed on him, expectant. “At least, there is no method that is proven. One hears things, rumors. There is something called Golconda. I don't know much about it, but some kindred believe that if you can reach that mythological state of being, there is a way back. You'll have to ask other kindred who are better educated in that particular philosophy."

Jasper holds back a dry chuckle, looking away. The devotees themselves, according to his books, never really achieved such a feature, and their bloodline was lost by now thanks to their diableric customs and their bad blood with some other clans. If only some sort of meditation or spiritual quest could really take any of them back. It was a hopeless quest, especially for anyone outside that clan’s particular disciplines and features… Jasper knew so a lot better than he'd ever like to admit - he had tried.

Even without seeing through Jasper’s foreknowledge about it though, Annabelle’s small nod made clear she didn’t exactly buy into the strange description herself. That, or she was in too much of an emotional numbness to actually process it. 

“I've heard it said that some kindred who manage to slay their sires quickly enough can sometimes find a way back... Even more incentive for you to cooperate.” The baron smiled suggestively as he added up, but then his expression hardened into the usual indifference not a full moment after. “Okay, I'm not feeling generous anymore."

“Sir.” Victor greeted, turning to the door with a slight nod.

“Good luck.” The baron responded in equal measure. “And report in before sunrise. I want to know how it goes."

“Yes, sir.”

“Will do.” Jasper also nodded, excusing himself behind the other three.

“Thank you.” 

Annabelle nodded respectfully at the Baron, before turning away. 

“Good night." He smiled.

“Enjoy your evening.” 

Nelli waved as the front doors closed behind them. Then, followed by the two ghouls till the elevator, the four of them walked silently through the Highland mall all the way back towards the garage, where the car waited for them as requested.


	6. To Griffith Park

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> In this chapter, some diversions from the game already start to appear. Since, as mentioned, I'll be addapting the story not only to the Jasper & Annabelle ship, but also covering up some little and big plot holes I personally thought could be a bit useful in the story to have a bit more care to them.
> 
> \-----

Annabelle follows the group back out into the Hollywood night in silence, still trying to put her thoughts and emotions back in place. September's still warm, and that night feels almost sultry... A feeling that is oddly pleasing against her skin, which was a feeling she was getting used to. Annabelle never quite liked the warmer seasons before... Well, before _dying._ But now it felt like a soft blanket on a chilly day, every time. And she couldn't get used to it.

No matter how hard she tried, it still felt eerie. Odd. It reminded her of how _not normal_ she now was doomed to be, and as soon as they reached the lobby, there was the second reminder: _That scent._ All of those thousands of people and all the riot of color and sound, pressing up against them as they make their way out of the elevator and back to the parking garage.

Mr. Temple's driver, Ib, was standing by the SUV's door as they approached, and she opened the doors for them before heading back to the driver' seat. A little before Annabelle reached the car, however, Mr. Temple stopped and set a hand on her shoulder. And, unlike his sardonic, prideful amusement at her misery just a few moments ago... his eyes were somber when she looked up at him. Kind.

"You know, it's not so terrible once you find your place in it." He mutters quietly, looking her in the eye. "You just... have to learn the way it works."

Annabelle examines the odd honesty in his eyes quietly, for a long moment, before risking to indulge any of his jokes again. Before his vain facade comes up again though, she _has_ to ask.

"Don't you miss Mark?"

There is a pause, and a sad smile appears on his face. In this light, not all cocky and loud, offering her comfort without being asked or forced to... He kinda _does_ feel like a dad.

"Always." Mr. Temple nods with a heavy sigh, hands going on his pockets before he looks away and shrugs. "But it's fine. I mean, he is safe and... in my own way, I see him all the time."

"What are you talking about?" Annabelle frowns, confused. "Mark says he hasn't seen you in a year."

"Yeah. He says that."

It took her a moment staring at him with absolute confusion, before the dots aligned. In a flash, Chris' vacant expression and Mr. Temple's oddly powerful words came back to her, and all Mark's oddly incongruent reports of his dad's whereabouts. Always knowing how he was, or where, even though he didn't care enough to look for those details _and_ never actually seen him.

"Oh my god." She breathed, mindblown. Mr. Temple sighed to her realization with another shrug, though he didn't seem proud of it. "You did tha-- oh my god... uh..."

Jasper chuckled as he walked by them amusedly. When Annabelle's face unconsciously switched from simple shock to judgemental disappointment, Mr. Temple guard went back up.

"Do I need to do that to you?" he asked, an eyebrow arched.

"Wha-- can you--" Annabelle's eyes widen in curiosity, but she shakes the inquiry off, realizing she sounds rude. Good or not, his decisions are his to make, and she had given all of them enough problems so far apparently simply by following her own. "No, like, it wasn't a threat I'm curious. Can-- Uh, nevermind. Uh, sorry."

"Yeah." He sighed, and Annabelle wasn't sure if that was for her question or her apology as he motioned her to get in the car before himself. "Now, get in the car."

Annabelle got in the seat she was before beside Jasper while Mr. Temple gave new directions to his driver in the front seat, holding down Ellenore's locket as the car started moving again down the terrible traffic out of Hollywood. Annabelle notices the driver lady peek at her through the rearview mirror for a moment, then shrug and... sigh. That catches Annabelle off guard, maybe more than all that has happened inside that fancy office - though it sounds ironic at this point. She... Was human? _Really?_

"So," Mr. Temple sighed, breaking Annabelles attention out of the woman. "That all was not... awful. I mean, you're still _alive_. So, that's great."

'Yeah. I think it went rather well, yeah." Annabelle nodded with a long, weighted exhale she wasn't sure for how long she was holding. "You're welcome."

Mr. Temple scrunched his nose at her latter addendum, uncomfortable.

"Eh, it's- Mm--"

"Just don't use the word _'we'_ again." Jasper grumbled, staring coldly at her.

"At _all_." Mr. Temple agreed with a meaningful glare. "EVER _._ "

"Yeah, that was--" Annabelle cringed, biting her lip. "Yeah. He definitely caught that, huh?"

She could still feel the cold shiver that ran down her spine when the Baron's eyes went from indifferently curious to that hollow, ice cold glare... The odd, powerful presence that middle-aged man in his fancy suit and with his graying licked over hair from the 50's had all of a sudden to her slip was something she was _not_ going to forget any time soon. It felt straight out of a high end mafia movie, but far more real than she'd ever want to see.

"Mm- _hm_." The lady, which the Baron had called Nelli, growled at her accusingly.

" _Oh_ yeah." Jasper grimaced.

"Hundred percent." Mr. Temple nodded with a long, heavy sigh. "This whole witch thing we're going to go do? IS because of that _'we'_."

"But-But, what does it have to do with--" Annabelle frowned, getting impatient. "Who is _'The Witch'_?"

Mr. Temple huffed and rolled his eyes before she could even finish, shaking his head and annoyedly waving at Jasper an ' _I give up'_ gesture, before he turned around in his seat and looked out the window.

" _You_ tell her."

"Now look--" Jasper sighed. Annabelle gaped, snickering to Mr. fancy pants Temple's impatience with her, before breathing in deep and turning to the pale man beside her. Despite his inhuman look, _he_ at least acted and talked to her on the same level, like she was a regular person and not either some _medieval peasant_ or a toddler. "There is a reason _they_ look like that and I look like _this_."

Jasper started pointedly nodding at their faces than to himself as a whole. Annabelle stiffened, curiosity bubbling almost as hard as her awkward discomfort to the topic... She didn't want to seem rude, after all. Especially not to the one decent person she had met so far, and even more so now that they had made clear they functioned to the rules of an entirely different reality and society than she knew. Annabelle had no idea how sore of a topic the existence of such... disfigured people was or not. Was it indelicate to pry? or a common thing?

Despite Jasper himself not seeming to be _that_ particularly bothered about it, at least on surface level, Annabelle figured it could very well be just a facade - especially to someone who seemed to be such a goth, silent-and-tough kind of dude, who hung around this 'life or death' kind of people on a daily basis... If Annabelle was in his position, she'd not be willing to let anyone know what ticked her off or not. Which, in a way, she kind of was; but being in front of her boyfriend's father and having slipped Ellenore's identity to them, there was little else that mattered that much that she could hide at this point.

"Well there are _several_ reasons... " Nelli laughed.

"I still think you're beautiful, man." Mr. Temple shrugged, winking at Jasper as he motioned to his corpsy, uneven skull. "The veins, it works."

Jasper threw them a deadpanned glare and a tight, mocked smile.

 _"Thanks."_ he hissed at the duo between teeth, before looking back at Annabelle. "Now, in Kindred.... Society. There are what we call 'Clans'."

"Okay..." Annabelle arched an eyebrow, but grunted when she couldn't hold her academically fueled thoughts in. "Actually, no. Sorry. I don't mean to judge, but... Even more than all this supernatural shit, _one_ thing still baffles me. You guys really have an actual monarchy? With Barons, dukes, princes... in the 21st century? Seriously?"

"Eh. It's--" Mr. Temple interjected, sounding like he wanted to disagree but wasn't sure how yet.

"Some of us are." Nelli groaned.

" _That's_ what you're most weird about?" Jasper scoffed, baffled.

" _That_ at LEAST I can understand without a fucking guidebook!" She exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "Who-- Look, I'm trying. I don't know how normal this is for all of you or not, but to ME, this is still a lot. So--"

"It's-- ok, shh. I get it. So, basic politics first then." Jasper growled, frustratedly pinching the bridge of his nose then before breathing in and out, before continuing. "You know how Abrams spoke of 'Anarchs' and 'Camarilla'? Those are two of the three big political/social parties in Kindred society."

Annabelle focused in his words nodding without interrupting. Politics, people dynamics-- _This_ kind of shit she could understand. This is what her _life_ had been all about, after all, especially in those last few months... Going over an easy topic first could hopefully give her a small break from taking in all that reality shattering, different species and fantasy novel mumbo-jumbo.

"The Camarilla, which neither of us or Abrams is part of, _are_ kind of a monarchy. They are mostly older vamp-- ugh, now you got me saying it." Jasper rolled his eyes, awkwardly. Annabelle and even Mr. Temple couldn't help but chuckle. "Anyway, Kindred. Like, CENTURIES old Kindred, who think they know more and are better than everyone and that middle ages is the way to keep our society safe - since they have been alive since then. They're the first political sect to ever exist in _our_ society, and the... Eh, arguably the biggest one, but that's a bit unclear recently."

"They're even paranoid humans are watching us through our phones, abolished all tech use beyond like dial phone and parchment messages. Not even joking." Mr. Temple adds, and Annabelle's eyes widen at the same time she frowns dumbfounded. "I know, it's stupid, I don't really believe it but-- Yeah, that's the mighty 'Ivory Tower', formally called the Camarilla. Now, the Anarchs - meaning _us_ , are... mostly younger Kindred. There are some old ones, who also believe in evolving with time and technology despite being dead. We--"

"There are still _names_ derived from Camarilla times, for example the _'Barons'_ being our local... I guess you can call governors? But from, you know, from cities or city areas." Jasper picked up from Mr. Temple's explanation. "Anarchs still have very different rules and beliefs, though. We're... more, uh, 'democratic' ideas than 1700's politics. You know, value freedom, everyone has the right to their own life and rules so long they don't invade someone else's... That kind of thing."

"The only thing we see eye to eye with the Camarilla, is that hiding from mankind is essential to our survival." Mr. Temple added with a nod. "Remember, the 'Masquerade' I mentioned? It's not an anecdote, it's one of our actual _laws_."

"And why it's so _vital_ you keep your mouth shut." Nelli enforced. "We're not just asking out of a whim, we _all_ NEED to keep our loved ones out of it. If we don't, regardless if they can be trusted or not, we - and them - pay the price."

Annabelle's eyes froze on the woman's cold stare, her expression and somber tone declaring clearly what, now looking closely, all their expressions also shared. It was true, neither of them had a choice. And it was a danger even to them, with all their attitude and power just a moment ago in the apartment and the car ride there, had any chance of fighting against... A prospect that threw knives and rocks down Annabelle's stomach.

"That's right." Mr. Temple nodded, quietly. "The Camarilla though, has an extremely hardcore view of _how_ to do it compared to us. Like, live in the shadows, use couriers and parchment, be watched by their superiors 24/7 kind of hardcore."

Mr. Temple sighing in annoyance as he explained his point about this... 'Camarilla' folk further, Jasper and Nelli nodding and cringying to the words as they went on. They _clearly_ didn't like them, though Annabelle was getting a feel for why.

"Oh." Annabelle gaped, eyes widening in both amusement and surprise. "Wow."

Annabelle needed a moment to take in and process it. despite still feeling like a surprising otherworldly turn of events, it's _sort of_ made sense. Human history was written in a pattern of old societies growing stale, and being overthrown by younger generations... but what would happen if the people of those older generations _never died?_ As unyielding as evolution can be, there is always an asshole to think themselves as king or nobility. Even in modern times Humanity. Annabelle could only guess how worst that kind of pattern could be amongst Immortal beings... Between people who had legitimately _lived_ or had been born in those medieval societies.

"Still with us?" Nelli asked, peeking back at Annabelle.

"Yeah, sorry." She chuckled, nodding to them all. "Yeah, I think I follow. So it's like an extreme sort of conservative party and a more democratic one?"

Jasper and Mr. Temple exchanged an odd, almost impressed look, before shrugging and nodding to her. Mr. Temple eyes her with an impressed sort of look.

"Kinda, yeah." Jasper agreed, though slightly unsure.

"You're oddly fast to catch up on _this_ bit." Mr. Temple mused suspiciously, an eyebrow arched.

"I am-- uh, was--? well, hopefully _still am..._ A Political Sciences graduate." Annabelle shrugged, smiling for the first time in the evening a little smuggly. "This is _a lot_ easier and real for me than freaking vampires and witches."

The three kindred around her exchanged curious looks, in mixes of interest, surprise and indifference, before shrugging. "Fair enough." Mr. Temple nodded.

"What would be the third party though? You said two out of three." Annabelle frowned at Jasper, curious. "Some sort of neutral side?"

They all laughed dryly.

"The opposite, actually." Jasper snickered to her, with widening eyes.

"So, the 'masquerade' we talked about? The rule about hiding from humans and all that?" Mr. Temple asked her, and Annabelle nodded. " _Some_ Kindred believe that, because we are undead, powerful and immortal, we are superior to humans and should be their rulers rather than hiding away from them. You know, ' _rejoice_ in our moustruous nature' and 'treat them as the lesser, prey species they are'-- That kind of epic, comic-book supervillain type of thinking."

Annabelle's frown deepened to that prospect, and Mr. Temple nodded approvingly to her clear discomfort. She was getting the right idea, even without having even asked them.

"They're called the Sabbat, but it's not important. They're assholes even for Kindred standards, that's all there is to know." Jasper waved his hand dismissively, though the idea only made her even more curious, though in the worst possible way. "Can we get back to the matter at hand, please?"

Annabelle wanted to complain, but sighed and nodded. As much as she wanted to ask more, running away from the point that had even started that entire discussion in the first place was not going to make it any easier. At least now though, knowing their stance on things a little more clearly, she felt a little bit less like their hostage... They seemed more like older cellmates now than captors - it still sucked, and she did _not_ want to be there, but it was at least a bit better than being in a one-against-all situation.

"Okay. So, to your question regarding 'the witch'..."

Jasper sighed, staring at nothing with his mouth slightly agape as he collected his thoughts. Again, he seemed to be carefully picking his words in his mind before actually saying them, Annabelle could almost _see_ the gears in his mind turning.

"Regardless of politics, there is this... aspect of Kindred society called 'Clans'." He started slowly, though still seeming to be trying to pick the right words. "They're... uh..."

Annabelle tried revising what she could remember from her classes in political history in uni to help, when they mentioned old european conflicts. She _did_ remember the base dynamics mentioned about old Scotish clans and the likes; they were more like politicized family lines than something non-political in those though, so she wasn't sure how much the memory helped considering Jasper's comment.

"Think of them as 'bloodlines'." Mr. Temple offers him, And Jasper nods.

"Oh... ok." Annabelle gaped. Well, maybe not _so_ different from what she remembers then after all. "So, like uh, like family lines?"

"Uh. A little bit, yeah. But, not just--" Jasper pondered, grimacing as he struggled with his words. "Your _clan_ is more than just a surname, it's like... Different things for each... It's a 'title', that encompasses a big array of specific habilities, looks... Things like that, of certain Kindred."

Annabelle frowned, a bit confused, but nodded in silence regardless.

"Everyone's clan is-- the logic of it is that when you're Embraced, when you're 'turned', you'll have the same uh... supernatural capabilities, weaknesses and sometimes looks, as your Sire; the person who turned you." Jasper finally decided himself on his words, then waited to check if Annabelle was following. The idea felt odd, but it _did_ make the word make a little more sense. "For example, the reason I look different than all of you is because I am... For better or worse... What is called a Nosferatu."

Annabelle's eyes sparkled to the familiar word. And indeed, she could immediately spot some similarities about Jasper's odd constitution to all those old memes she had found roaming around the internet and the old silent movie she and Elle had laughed so hard about a few days back, when they first started looking up some broader myths about Annabelle's condition.

"I know what that is!" she beamed, finally not feeling like a kid.

Jasper though, cringed immediately to her enthusiasm, raising up a finger and shaking it in her face so she'd halt.

"No, nope. It's _not_ that."

"It's not that. No."

"You do not, nope." Both Mr. Temple and Nelli started chuckling interventions, though they seemed more endeared and understanding than mocking her on it this time.

Annabelle's smile fell, confused once again. "..Oh."

"There's a reason _he_ is called that." Jasper explained with a knowing look, nodding as Annabelle's eyes widened to the idea. Before she can gasp and blurt out the questions and theories exploding in her mind though, Jasper quickly resumed control of the conversation. "Anyway. My point with all of this is... The unfortunate part about your situation is... we don't know what 'Clan' _you_ belong to."

"The person we're going down to see is not a _witch_ witch, in the sense you might think. It's just... They're another Kindred, whose clan... abilities... can help us find that out. To put it simply." Mr. Temple interjects with a sigh, also trying to hold her attention in the topic. " _And,_ knowing your clan is useful both to you, so you know your strong and weak suits, but also to us and the baron, so we can track down _who_ did this to you."

"... Because whatever 'clan' I belong to, is also the clan from who made me." Annabelle nodded slowly as the dots connected in her mind, remembering how the Baron had indeed used that specific wording when pondering about her.

"Yup." Jasper nodded.

"I see... Okay." Annabelle sighed, leaning against the seat. "Wait. But, I thought you said this was because the baron suspected me though."

"There is a lot _else_ they can discover. This clan."

"This Kindred we're going to see is from a clan that has... an air of mystery about them." Nelli said, theatrically. "They're called the 'Tremere'. This clan is capable of dabbling in magic, so to speak."

"Wait, _actual_ magic?" Annabelle's eyes widened, checking through every face in the car for any traces of another mockery. But, unlike the bow thing from earlier, there was no laugh or cheeky remark this time.

Before he could continue though, the SUV makes a wide, steep turn and Ib in the front seat clears her throat exaggeratedly. Jasper stops, and they all turn to her as she peeks at them in the rearview mirror.

"Sir, I think we're being followed." the driver mutters as she gets her eyes back to the road. They tense up and look back behind them, but Annabelle had been so engrossed in their conversation that she has no clue which of the cars behind them the woman means. "Should I lose them?"

Jasper growls. Victor stares behind them for a while longer, before turning back to her.

"Uh, attempt to, yes." Mr. Temple nods. "Casually though. I don't want to have to bribe any cops tonight."

"Casually, sir?"

"Ideally, yes." Victor confirms.

The driver nods without looking up at him, and starts speeding up a bit. It's not fast enough to lurch you out of your seats, but she definitely speeds up and begins making faster turns.

"You bribe cops?" Annabelle frowns at him with disgust. When Mr. Temple simply frowns confusedly at her like he doesn't get her point, she scoffs under her breath and looks away, dropping the topic. "That's so unsurprising..."

"Well..." Nelli shrugs, unbothered by either statements.

"Whatever." Annabelle hurriedly waved her off, eyes wide in curiosity and hopeful disbelief. "So. You said they dabble in 'magic'... Witchcraft is real too, then?"

"Uh... Well, in a way, yes. But..." Jasper pondered, tilting his head to a side. "It's not quite 'magic', it's... Just something these particular Kindred can do. It's kind of--"

"Sorcery." Mr. Temple offers.

"It's not like- Oh, uh, what's that guy?" Jasper frowns as he tries to remember, eyeing the other too for help. "There's that book about that boy with the, the thing--"

"Harry Potter?!"

Annabelle's yelps, eyes sparkling. Her heart jumps out of its undead state to the idea. Beside her though, Jasper stiffens and rolls his eyes, groaning like a parent who just realized he gave his child too much candy. Though she couldn't care less.

"Ah! Geez..."

"Is it like- Is it really!?" Annabelle barely held herself to her seat in excitement, trying to pry the confirmation out of Nelli and Mr. Temple as her current teacher had a cringing meltdown over her enthusiasm. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God."

"Whew. Mm-mm." Nelli gaped at her judgingly, chuckling.

"No, it's not like that."

Jasper mumbled through a frustrated growl from under his hands. And Mr. Temple shook his head together with it, his frown equally unamused and judgemental at her as Nelli.

"No, here's what you need to understand." Mr. Temple tried to start. "All of the movies-"

"Okay. Great, great, great."

"Is that the word you all use? Sorcery? Thau- Thauma- Thau--"

Mr. Temple frowns as she asks Nelli, but when she simply shrugs and frowns back at him, he gives up. Annabelle is still to hyper imagining the Hogwarts hallways and the implications of the saga's story being in any part real to mind them though, which cuts Mr. Temple off any trail of thought he was trying to follow.

"Okay, look at me, look at me," He calls with a demanding stare as Annabelle continues to giggle and fangirl with herself, snapping his fingers patiently at her and trying to raise his voice above hers. "I'm going to tell you something important."

"Just let me have this!" Annabelle whines, nearly kicking Nelli's seat in her protest.

To her surprise though, instead of calling Annabelle out as well, Nelli snaps her fingers at Mr. Temple and makes him a pronounced shushing gesture. He frowns confused at it, eyeing her finger than her eyes as if he is about to ask her why. But she cuts him off.

"Don't dad out." she asks, poker face impeccable as Mr. Temple throws her a surprised and almost outraged stare. Beside Annabelle, Jasper chokes down a chuckle. "Don't dad out."

"Don't-" Mr. Temple hisses, eyes wide in warning. But Nelli simply chuckles. _"Don't."_

"Hey, you told us you were a dad." Jasper arched an eyebrow.

"I didn't! _She did._ " Mr. Temple yells pointing at Annabelle, triggered.

Nelli and Jasper don't hold back laughs, and to her own surprise, neither does Annabelle. Mr. Temple pouts annoyedly, but simply rolls his eyes and laughs too. The car, oddly enough, feels less and less like a moving cell just then.

"So, we- The movies? _We_ make the movies. We own Hollywood." Mr. Temple smirks proudly, waving a big gesture to all of them and the moving landscape outside the windows. "We tell a half of a half of _an eighth_ of our stories. Just to sprinkle a little bit in the consciousness."

"Oh, my God." Annabelle's eyes widened all over again. She felt at this rate they'd fall out of their sockets by the time this night was over. "So vampire movies are propaganda."

They all froze and stared blankly at each other for a long, confused moment, as if the thought had never really occurred to them. Judging from the few moments it took for their expressions to switch into uncomfortable frowns or unconvinced tilts of head, Annabelle assumed the concept wasn't _entirely_ wrong.

"N-Not--" Nelli sighed, still thinking. "It's a coverup."

"A misdirection." Jasper agreed, saying it pretty much at the same time.

Nelli nodded at him, pointing as an example before turning back to Annabelle.

"The Masquerade that he talked about."

"So that when you tell someone _'I saw a Nosferatu!'_ , they'll say--"

Mr. Temple adds, then trails off pointing slowly at Jasper meaningfully. Annabelle followed his gesture of hand, but stiffened when, to her confusion, there was no one in the seat beside her. She stared, wide-eyed, at the empty spot beside her before peeking around, trying to figure out how someone as massively tall as Jasper had wiggled out of view so quick... But nope. She couldn't find _anything_.

"Wha-- How--" She gaped, turning back to the couple in the row ahead.

They both smiled with meaningful nods at her surprise.

"Magic!" Nelli proclaimed theatrically,wiggling her fingers around herself.

"... People will think you're crazy." Mr. Temple concludes his point smugly.

"Wow. Okay."

Annabelle laughs, staring at them ant at the empty seat still in absolute awe, the points they made regarding the misdirection vaguely making sense in the back of her immediate shock.

"That's what I--" Jasper's voice suddenly appears again, his hand patting her arm to draw in her attention. Annabelle jumped in her seat, as suddenly, his lanky, tall shape was back there in the seat beside hers as if nothing had ever happened.

"OH MY GOD!" she yelled, unable to hold back a shiver.

In front of them Nelli and Mr. Temple bent down laughing their asses off, and even Jasper himself chuckled through a patiently annoyed stare that waited for Annabelle's wide-eyed, heaving shock to calm down;

"Sir, I think we've lost them." Ib's voice rose up above the noise, unphased by the mess of laughter, screams and conversation going on in the passenger seats.

"Excellent. Excellent work, just keep an eye out, just in case." Mr. Temple nodded to her as he tried to hold back his fit of laughter. "Maybe still take the long way to Griffith."

"Yes, sir."

They all took a long, few minutes pause to compose and recollect themselves, observing the passing landscape that now started reaching the more suburban areas around the park. Annabelle observed the quiet, not as lively night scene in comparison to the busy main centers of the city, gathering her thoughts about what she had just seen.

"Okay. Alright, it- So, this is--" She eventually muttered out, trying to get the conversation back on track.

Before she could though, Mr. Temple snapped his fingers excitedly and pointed to her, remembering something.

"Macbeth!" He smiled at her, hopeful. "Remember the Macbeth? Double, double toil and trouble?"

"Yes!" Annabelle's eyes shined to the name, nodding. She had both read and watched several versions of the play for her studies a few semesters ago.

"Oh, wow."

" _That._ Think that. That." Mr. Temple nodded, victorious. "Not Harry Potter, think that."

"Okay. Alright." Annabelle smiled, intrigued. "Great, great, great. Okay. Okay."

"I mean--" Jasper frowned, not seeming as sure about the comparison. "They are not that- Anyways--"

"I just parse this in, you know, anyway that I can." Annabelle sighed.

That seemed to be a convincing argument enough for him, as Jasper simply shrugged and nodded, going back to his sight seeing out the window on his side.

"The tremere's sorcery is based around a very special thing to our particular kind of people," Nelli smiled wickedly at Annabelle, arching an eyebrow. "Can you guess what it is?"

Mr. Temple beside her tapped the inside of his wrist meaningfully.

"Uh, he just pointed to his artery, so I'm assuming it's blood." Annabelle deadpanned, which made Nelli pout displeased at her partner. "Well, uh, okay then. How much?"

Nelli shrugged. "Depends on what they're trying to do."

"They can do a lot of things." Mr. Temple sighed. "And digging through our minds for the truth can be one of them, and they're not even the only ones who can do so. So, _please._ You're smart, you're though-- that's all well and good. Do NOTlie again."

Annabelle scoffed, rolling her eyes. "But you had _just_ said we had to lie about--"

“To mortals, yes.” Jasper corrected, glaring at her pointedly. “To _humans._ ”

“Never to each other.” Nelli agreed, somber. When Annabelle’s shoulders sagged, both frustrated and discouraged, the blue haired lady waved at her comfortingly. “No use sweating now though, we’ll figure it out. But don’t do it again.”

“Exactly. Plus,” Mr. Temple waited for them with vehement nods, before adding up with a disbelieving but oddly patient laugh. “there is a big difference between LYING and simply _not_ mentioning your girlfriend.”

“Ugh… Ok.” Annabelle sighed, unable to hold a defense to that. Indeed, as exagerated as she still felt their secrecy standards went, it _had_ been a pretty stupid goof to make in front of such mafia boss-like stranger like the Baron had seemed. “Yeah, okay. Got it.”

“Good. Thank you.” Mr. Temple sighed heavily through a laugh.

The SUV begins the steep incline into Griffith Park. Normally the park would be closed at this time of night, but somebody must have known you were coming because the gate is open and Ib drives right on through and up into the dark, dark hills above Hollywood.

“What a coincidence.” Mr. Temple mutters as they pass the open gate.

“Yeah, that's not at all suspicious. Right?”

“Well, they knew we were coming.” Mr. Temple shrugs. “It's fine. It's fine.”

“Okay.” Nelli sighs, though she doesn’t seem so convinced.

Annabelle’s eyes go back to Jasper, uneasy. But his expression is serious and not as comforting as she hoped, his eyes fixed ahead and on the window beside him, scanning the background around them like the others. She shifts in her seat, tensing up, and resigns herself to following their lead.

Up in Griffith Park, which is a vast expanse of trees, grass, boulders, steep ravines, hills; it's the closest thing to wilderness that Los Angeles gets. They even say that there are cougars roaming through the park, Annabelle had gone on small incursions with Ellenore to try and find them; it had been one of their first dates. She gets lost in the memories for a short while, before her mind is brought back to reality once the car starts slowing down.

They seem to have reached their destination: Griffith Park Observatory. Beautiful art deco building overlooking Los Angeles. The building is dimly lit and at this time of night it's closed, and theirs is the only vehicle in the parking lot. Up here, away from the light pollution, Annabelle could actually see the stars. 

As suspected, soon Ib cuts the engine and says, "We're here, sir.".

“Actually, leave the lights off but the engine on.” Mr. Temple instructs her as they all unbuckle from their seats. “Just in case whoever was on our tail comes back.”

The driver nods, doing as she is told.

“Alright. Let’s go.” he turns then to Annabelle. She intakes a long breath before nodding.

“Okay.” 


	7. The Witch

Jasper follows Annabelle out of the SUV with unhurried steps, hands in his pockets as they all venture into the empty park that was so uncomfortably close to home. Well,  _ almost _ all of them. Shortly after Annabelle shut the car door and hurried up the hill behind Victor, Jasper realizes with a frown that Nelli, who is usually the first to take the Ventrue’s side, is standing beside the car with a hollow, dazed look in her face - staring down deep into the treelines to the opposite side they were heading. Considering his colleague's known ability to see through the usual veil some Kindred were capable of using, Jasper halts on his way and observes around the area she is looking at, trying to see what has caught her attention so intently… but there seems to be nothing there. At least, nothing  _ he _ is able to spot. 

Her delay is so pronounced Annabelle also ends up noticing it and turns around, looking at first to him for confirmation of if that was something normal… But then halts when Jasper simply remains silent, still watching the blue-haired Toreador now walk down closer to the forest, away from them. 

“Nelli?" Annabelle calls, stepping closer to Nelli and touching her arm gently, but the Toreador doesn’t acknowledge her, simply continuing to walk deeper into the park. “Nelli? Wha-- Nelli!"

Her hushed calling brings Victor’s attention to the scene, making him stop and backtrack closer to them with an equally confused frown. Nelli is staring forward dazedly, one arm now reaching forward as if trying to grasp someone’s hand… Though, still, even when Jasper tries heightening his senses and peer into the direction she is facing, he can’t see  _ anything _ there. 

“Ah--" Jasper exchanges a blank, confused look with Victor, but he remains silent.

They all approach her quietly, following her vacant lead away from their original objective. Annabelle immediately clings to Jasper’s arm, worriedly whispering to him with her eyes still glued to the blue-haired diva ahead of them.

“Is that- Is that normal?”

Before Jasper can answer Victor hurries beside them and extends a hand in front of them, gesturing for silence. Annabelle frowns at him, worriedly trying to reach for Nelli again, but Victor grabs her arm and shakes his head before she can. 

“Actually- Actually- Wait! Shh!  _ Shh! _ ” he demands, his eyes still on his spouse. 

Annabelle seems baffled, and about to protest against him, but she looks questioningly to Jasper for back-up. The nosferatu shrugs, genuinely curious and  _ bothered _ by the fact he really can’t say much beyond; “I don't know what she's doing.”

“Nelli? _Nelli!_ ” Annabelle whispers once again, then yelps when the Toreador gives her no response. Victor, groaning in frustration, shushes her again hurriedly with wide gestures of his hands. 

“ _ No! _ Don’t say anything.” He begs in whispers, loud enough only for hopefully her and Jasper to hear. “Just let it happen.”

Annabelle grumbles and frowns at him like he is asking her to watch Nelli jump off a cliff, but resigns to _finally_ following in silence; though still from up close. Jasper keeps himself close by as well, peeking at their surroundings while the others watch the Toreador intently, trying to keep their coast clear. 

“Nelli?” Annabelle mutters again. 

This time, both Victor  _ and _ Nelli impatiently gesture for her to shush, which catches Victor by surprise. This brings Jasper’s eyes back to the situation at hand, especially since they finally seem to have stopped walking. 

“Shh!” Nelli growls at them, her eyes still glassy, fixed somewhere ahead. “It’s over there.”

“Where is-- What-- Is, is that--” Annabelle frowns in absolute uncomfortable confusion, her eyes now darting between Nelli and Jasper. He sighs, annoyed. When did  _ he _ become the entitled teacher? 

“Uh. We don’t see anything either, it’s okay.” he mumbles back to her, which seems to ease her expression at least a little bit. “Just...” he trails off, gesturing to let whatever it is unfold before getting his attention fully back to the others. 

“Okay.” Annabelle nods to him, sticking closer to his side. 

They all wait in silence, while Nelli frowns at whatever her eyes are focused on and tries grasping the air ahead of her. “She’s… Wearing a dress…?” she mumbles to no one in particular, her eyes thin as if she is struggling to focus. 

Once again, the reaction triggers back Annabelle’s impatience. She tugs at Jasper’s arm, bringing him closer so she can whisper without drawing Victor’s or Nelli’s annoyance again. Victor has stepped closer to Nelli by now, leaving them a couple steps behind to their chatting. 

“Is that a thing her clan can do or--”

“I  _ don’t _ know what she’s doing.” He whispers back. 

But Annabelle doesn’t stop, still bubbling with questions louder and louder.

“Is there a ghost? or is that ‘the witch’?”

But at that Nelli blinks a couple times and gasps, stepping hurriedly forward and reaching more urgently ahead. “Ngh! But--” she complains, once again at nothing, then sighs with frustration and rubs her hands over her face. Whatever was happening, clearly, had suddenly stepped out of her reach.

“What happened?” Victor asks, a hand immediately on her back.

Nelli sighs one last time, shaking her head and turning on her heels. 

“Let’s go, we should go inside.” she tells Victor nonchalantly, patting his shoulder and walking past him like nothing happened. “Let’s go inside.”

The ventrue frowns, absolutely confused, but she pays him no mind. 

“But--” Victor tries to ask, still standing where she was.

“I-- Oh!” Nelli starts to answer something to him, rolling her eyes with exasperation, but gasps midway when, in her hurry, she doesn’t notice Jasper and Annabelle are standing in her way. She nearly slams into them, which makes Jasper frown even deeper. That is  _ not _ of her usual behavior, not in a situation like this. 

She finally seems to realize they’re all staring at her in a mix of confused, surprised frowns, but looks caught off guard by it. While she stares back at them at a loss of words - yet  _ another _ thing Jasper never thought he’d seen of the sharp-tongued Toreador -, Victor exchanges with Jasper another troubled, confused look over her shoulder. He steps forward, and is about to ask her something, when…

“You’re being  _ weird. _ ” Annabelle beats him to it. 

She is still frowning at Nelli with a mix of worry and uneasiness, and is clearly unaware of how off-putting her comment sounds despite its honesty. Jasper chokes on a laugh, just like Victor, and Nelli’s eyes grow impossibly wide in absolute horror and offense. 

“Ex _cuse-me?!_ ” Nelli gasps at her, mouth still ajar in disbelief.

That seems to make Annabelle realize a bit of how her wording hit them, but she just rolls her eyes before quickly trying to correct herself. But Nelli doesn’t let her, her chest puffed up in hurt pride and clearly triggered outrage. The following moments end up being a mess of victor and Jasper trying to hold back their own laughters and Nelli and Annabelle brokenly talking over each other.

“Sorry. I mean--”

“Wha-- ME, weird?!” 

“I’m sorry. It’s just, like--”

“ _ Weird? _ ”

“I meant, weirder then--”

“Oh, you wanna talk about  _ weird?! _ ”

As Nelli’s spite makes it seem she is about to pull off an example, Jasper’s laughter dies. He glares at her with warning patience, leaning forward. “If you point at me, I  _ swear _ ...”

The toreador halts at his comment, but smirks and arches an eyebrow. Jasper squinted his eyes and sighed out a growl at her smug expression, victorious either way on her wanted argument thanks to his snapped response. Victor and Annabelle have suddenly stopped laughing or talking, both looking between the two of them with surprise for one heavy, silent moment. Victor simply shrugs, staying out of it, but Annabelle sighs as she gets the point she is bringing across. 

“Don’t point at him...” she pleads to Nelli in a whisper, clearly disappointed. 

Jasper frowns, turning to Annabelle at a loss. Once again, there it was - her unrequested defense of his ‘feelings’, as if his face  _ wasn’t _ something taken straight out of a nightmare. As if they were close, rather than literal strangers to each other. Be as irrational as it may, her righteous impulse still caught Jasper off guard. It almost made him uncomfortable… Especially since she actually seemed to  _ mean it _ , rather than doing so to get on his good side. Had this woman really been completely unaware of their world and existence no more than a couple hours ago, to be so calm around him? Or just badly hit in the head and gone blind from it?

Nelli simply scoffs and rolls her eyes, whipping her hair over her shoulder and striding around them back towards the hill they had left behind to follow her. Victor sighs. 

“We’re-- Just-- Okay, let’s just… Inside.” he asks them both, waving behind them resigned before he follows Nelli a few steps ahead. “Come on, let’s go.”

Beyond some angry bickering in mumbles between Victor and Nelli for a few moments as they make their way back to the road leading to the observatory, the rest of the way is made in silence. Annabelle follows a couple steps behind still besides Jasper, her shoulders once again tense as they trail up amidst the darkness and silence of this misplaced piece of nature. Within about fifty yards of the front door, however, the silence is broken as they are intercepted by someone that Jasper had seen a couple times in the Baron's office, though they had never officially spoken to: Eva, the ‘Witch’. A kindred of the Tremere. 

Eva is tall and slender, with hair that is almost white under the starlight. She's extraordinarily pale, like chalk or bone… Even her lips are colorless. But her eyes are a deep sapphire blue, making a haunting contrast with the rest of her. She hovers into view from behind one of the pillars around the observatory, dressed in a very long, shapeless dress and a vest covered in flower appliques. 

“Hello." 

The Witch smiles at them cordially, her voice low and hushed as if a murmur is all she can muster. In the eerie glow of the moonlight and all the white coloring her, despite having been expected,  _ she _ looks much more like a haunting apparition then all the odd behaviour Nelli had randomly broken into.

“Eva?” Victor asked politely, turning to her as she approached.

_ “Eva.” _ She corrects him gently, pronouncing the E with stronger intonation than the usual way of saying it. 

“Eva. Pleasure.” Victor nodded respectfully, making sure to abide to her correction before proceeding to point at each of them. “Victor. Nelli, Jasper, and this is Annabelle. The Baron has sent us to speak with you.”

She nodded at each of them, before turning back to Victor.

“Yes, he told me what he wanted.” she confirms, her eyes already fixed on Annabelle with eerie stillness. “So, you’re Annabelle?”

Annabelle gulps before nodding, stepping forward. “Nice to meet you.”

Eva holds out her hands to Annabelle without answering, then waits. Annabelle peeks at the others but then turns back to hold her gaze, hesitantly grasping both hands in the Tremere’s shortly after. Annabelle immediately winces under her breath, but tries to mask it, while Eva simply stares closely at her without seeming to notice so. 

While Nelli and Victor keep their distance, casually keeping watch around them to occupy their time, Jasper steps closer. Especially as he notices Eva’s eyes drifting out of focus, clearly looking beyond this plane, fascinated; he had always hoped to be able to witness the so feared Tremere’s abilities at work. And to have a chance with such a safe environment was beyond his most ideal wishes. Unfortunately, however, currently their awkward stare off is all he is able to gather about what is going on from an outsider’s perspective.

“I see. Yes. Yes, I see.” Eva mutters to Annabelle as if she is talking back to her, though the short woman is simply still staring at the Tremere with wide, clearly uncomfortable eyes. “I see. Oh, you poor thing. Well, let’s get this done. Shall we?”

Eva smiles gently as she finally lets go of Annabelle’s hands. Annabelle quickly rubs her hands together, discreetly pressing them against her sides as if trying to warm them up while nodding to the Tremere's question. 

“Mm-hmm. Right here though?” Victor finally steps back to the conversation, sounding confused. He has one eyebrow arched as he gestures to the floor under them. “Out here?”

Eva tilts her head, thoughtful, then nods to a small courtyard behind her.

“Well, over there.” she corrects him, pointing to the small garden patch beyond the covered porch they’re currently standing under. “It’s better under the stars.”

Victor shrugs and nods, cordially waving for her to lead the way. In slow steps Eva leads them towards a small grove of palm trees close to the side of the observatory’s east wing, a little ahead of the parking lot. They all follow in silence, Jasper and Annabelle ahead of the power couple this time. The area is barely illuminated by a splash of yellow light coming from the observatory dome. When she notices them gazing upwards towards the prominent building, Eva sighs and shakes her head. 

“It’s no good in there, better out here.” she assures them. When Victor and Jasper shrug and nod, she turns to Annabelle and starts fiddling with the inside of her vest. “So, Annabelle... I am going to help you. The Baron and you have questions, and  _ this _ is how we’re going to get answers.”

Jasper’s eyes glimmer with curiosity when Eva produces out of her vest a shining silver cup and a very small knife, almost oblivious to Annabelle’s pale expression as he inspected the two objects attentively. They were antiques, that much he was certain. Made for ritualistic purposes, considering the intricate details carved around the holder and blade.

“It’s not very pleasant, but it’s necessary.” Eva muttered to Annabelle, almost apologetically. 

That snapped Annabelle out of her shock, as she breathed in deep and then nodded with renewed, yet clearly tense determination. “I’ll-- I’ll do what needs to be done.”

Eva smiles softly at her after contemplating Annabelle’s conviction for a long moment. 

“I was hoping you’d say that.” The Tremere admits with a praising nod, before extending both the cup and the knife to Annabelle. “Fill it.”

Annabelle’s eyes widen. She grows even pale as she eyes the items and Eva for a long moment, making sure she meant what she thought she did, then grimaces with a tilt of her head and grabs both items when the Tremere’s patient semblant didn’t waver. 

“Aw, man...” she curses under her breath, eyeing the knife and the not small cup before gulping down her hesitation. “Okay.” 

They all waited for a long moment, that quickly turned into a solid minute, while Annabelle still shifted her weight from one side to the other, and stared at both items stiffly. 

“Do you need help?” Eva asked, patiently. 

“Uh, n-no, I just...” Annabelle started, but then frowned and thought better, before sighing and continuing her previous sentence with a shy look. “Uh, I guess we don’t need to worry about...”

“Diseases?” Jasper guessed, with a cocked eyebrow. She nodded quickly with relief at his intervention, and even more so when he shook his head. “No.”

“Okay...” She sighed; still tense, but now not so stiff.

“Actually, we  _ do _ ,” Victor added with interest. “But not here like this, no.”

“Uh… Ok,” Annabelle frowned at the addendum, but shook her head and thought better than to insist on the topic. They “Sorry. I was, just...”

“I assure you, it’s quite sanitary.” Eva nodded.

“Great, ok, thank you.” Annabelle sighed, steeling herself. “Uh...”

A few more moments passed in awkward silence, as they all watched Annabelle fiddle with the blade and the cup while looking down on the items and herself, absolutely uneasy and tense. 

“We  _ don’t _ have all night.” Nelli groaned eventually, between teeth. 

Annabelle flinches and mumbles a half-meant  _ ‘sorry’ _ , breathing in deep once more as she looks down at her arms. Eva approaches her a little closer then, reaching for her arm that is holding the knife and trailing down a small line over her forearm, close to her wrist. 

“Here will do.” she hints, patiently and sweetly. 

Annabelle tenses up to the Tremere’s touch, but then nods and rolls up some of her red jacket to expose her arm. Changing the cup and knife between her hands, she breathes in and finally slides the blade across her skin, grimacing as the mostly dull blade slowly slashes open her dead flesh. 

“What’s that knife made out of?” Victor ponders, curiously.

“Silver, of course.” Eva confirms Jasper’s suspicion.

The Tremere’s answer makes Victor’s eyes go wide. He grimaces empathetically as Annabelle grits her teeth, holding back a pained grunt; silver was notoriously difficult to give any edge or sharpness to, hence most weapons made for combat purposes rarely having more than some decoration being made of it. As soon as the dark, crimson tone of her Vitae wells up out of the wound, Annabelle switches the cup and knife between her hands again so she can position the cup right under it, and it slowly begins to be filled. 

Jasper frowns to the alluring, inviting scent, steeling his mindt to the rut it brings his Beast. He could  _ feel  _ it growling in the back of his mind, neglected and thirsty, rejoicing to the close proximity to his preferred treat. Maybe watching so closely had not been such a good idea after all… But, regardless, he ignores it and stands his ground. It was hardly his hungrier moment facing another Kindred’s blood in an inopportune moment, and he would not allow such a rare chance to be ruined for something so trivial like his own hunger by now. 

In just a few moments, to Jasper’s relief, the cup is full. Annabelle carefully lifts her arm away and hands Eva both the filled cup and the knife back, before cleaning around the cut with her fingers and licking them out. She then stares at the small would, thoughtful, and tentatively brings it close to her mouth and licks it. When nothing beyond having it even cleaner happens, however, she frowns and looks at Victor. 

“But, I thought...” she starts, looking between the wound and him blankly. 

Jasper chuckled to her confusion, but couldn’t help to be amazed at her observation skills. He didn’t think she’d have noticed that was the reason Victor had licked down Chris’ wound back then, considering the panic and confusion she had been in at the moment. 

“Ah! No, that only works with bites.” Victor chuckled at her, almost apologetically. 

“Aw, seriously?” Annabelle scoffed, staring at her wound uncomfortably. “Damn it...”

They all laugh at her annoyance, amused. Eva, now suddenly with only the cup in her hands, chuckles lightly and grabs Annabelle’s arm while she is clutching to the cut with her other hand, looking around herself probably for something she could wrap the wound in. 

“You can just relax. Relax. There  _ is  _ a way to fix it.” She cooes to her, calmly. Annabelle stops with some surprise at her, then waits. “Look at your arm, and… imagine the flesh closing. Knitting. Mending together...”

The words seemed to confuse Annabelle, but not completely without sense. She peeked between Eva and the wound a couple times, uneasily, before nodding and focusing fully on the small open cut, her eyes barely blinking, then closing down.

“Ugh. She is never gonna get this...” Nelli sighed after a little while. 

“Nah, she will.” Victor dismissed Nelli's annoyance, a small smile on his face and a confident nod. Nelli gaped at him, caught off guard, but said nothing. “She is a survivor.”

And, surely enough, soon Annabelle’s flesh started so sizzle close. The tissues and flesh moving closer to each other, slowly disappearing into a tight line, then a dot, then nothing. As if no wound or gash had ever been made there. Jasper couldn’t hold back a small smile, impressed. Maybe she did have what it took to survive after all… She looked at her arm, amazed, but there was a small troubled frown in her eyes. For a moment, Jasper thought she was about to complain or protest about something, but then she simply shook her head and mumbled with herself in a hushed tone so low he probably wouldn’t have heard if he hadn’t been standing so close. 

“Fuck you...” she cursed at no one with a sigh, gulping and lowering her sleeve. 

Jasper chuckled, amused. He knew well what kind of dialogue that one was, and it didn’t surprise him that was her answer to it. Maybe Victor was right, after all. She probably  _ did  _ have what it took to pull through this.

“That is really well done.” Eva smiled at Annabelle, stepping away. 

“Thank you.”

“Normally this would take a lot longer,” The Tremere sighs as she looks down the cup, before turning to them again and smiling proudly. “But we perfected a few things. Ready?”

“Sure.” Jasper stepped closer, but to the side so he could have a better view of her movements, while Victor and Annabelle simply exchanged a small look and nodded. Nelli crossed her arms and observed with a bored, indifferent gaze in her eyes, which Eva took as compliance, and finally resumed the ritual. 

She holds the cup up to the night sky. Raises it first to the north and then to the east and the south and then the west. With the silver knife she touches the side of the cup again in the cardinal points of the compass, and then takes her finger and stirs the blood leftward, counter clockwise, faster and faster and faster and faster. Eva stirs the blood, and it begins to smoke and burn inside the cup. Jasper beast gnaws once more at the scent, rattling inside him… It smells wonderful.  _ Too _ wonderful. 

To his relief, though, soon the blood is all burned away - leaving just a black rime on the inside of the cup. Eva scrapes some of it away with her fingers, then tastes it. Jasper can see Victor and Nelli frowning to the display, slightly creeped out. 

“Hmm. Mhm.” Eva mumbles, staring at the cup thoughtfully, then taking yet another small scrape to her mouth. “Hm, okay."

Then, with ominous aplomb, she turns to Annabelle. 

“Annabelle, of the 10th generation.” Eva announces with regal reverence into the night silence. The number had clearly made Nelli arch an eyebrow, surprised. And Jasper couldn’t say he wasn’t also quite impressed himself. “Childe of the Brujah Clan.” 

Jasper couldn’t stop himself from chuckling, the stereoticipality of the revelation catching him completely off guard. Victor, as well, groaned with an unimpressed, troubled chuckle, bending back as he rolled his eyes. How  _ had _ they not even considered it before? She was pretty much a textbook impersonation of the brawling Brujahs. 

“That explains  _ a lot. _ ” the Ventrue sighed heavily, voicing their thoughts.

“And something else.” Eva calls their attention again, ominous. Her eyes are boring holes into Annabelle by now, interest and an odd sort of amusement glimmering in her eerie blue eyes. “There is dormant magic here.”

“...What?” Annabelle gapes, and her tone is almost scared.

“Blood magic… has been used upon you, since your Embrace.” Eva confirms with thoughtful quietness, a smile playing on the corner of her lips. “I can see it.”

Jasper frowned, looking at Annabelle then Victor warily. The humor in all their faces is now completely gone, replaced by tense, quizzical curiosity. Nelli has her eyes fixated on Annabelle, as if trying to see beyond her, and Victor himself is also trading to her and Jasper a few curious, worried looks. Annabelle, however, is simply staring at Eva with wide, confused eyes. 

“We’ll help you get rid of that,” Eva simply shrugs their questioning looks nonchalantly, putting the knife away then nodding to the cup before doing the same with it soon after. “This cup is all I’ll need. Come back and see me in a few nights.”

Eva then turns to Victor as she is stepping away from them, directing him a short nod. 

“Tell the Baron what you need to.” she tells him, calmly walking past him. Victor’s eyes widen for a brief moment, before he swivels around to face her. 

“It’s up to us to report this?” he asks, confused. “You won’t...”

Eva stops on her way, cocking her head to a side. 

“I believe those were his instructions.” she nods. 

Nelli sighs with a pat on her spouse’s arm, as Victor nods and shrugs the issue off. 

“Okay...” Annabelle gapes, still frozen with a wide-eyed, thoughtful expression at Eva’s direction, but not quite looking at her. 

Jasper can’t help but to turn his gaze down at the short asian Kindred himself, his mind bustling with even more questions than Annabelle’s seemingly lack of the usual reaction living  _ and _ dead being alike always had to him. This was starting to seem more intriguing than he was  _ ever  _ anticipating it to be… It was odd for him to feel this curious about any actual being. Let alone kindred-world topics that weren’t directly related to his personal hobby.

But maybe this edgy fledgling could end up being a worth-while, one-of-a-kind exception. Surely, it was starting to seem so. Either one new, unusual puzzle for him to solve, or just another blatant disappointment for his long list.

Who knows.

“Thank you, Eva.” Victor mutters with a polite nod in the end, shrugging his wary curiosity and tension about the Baron topic away. “If there’s anything we can do to be of use, please don’t hesitate to ask.” 

Victor then turns to Nelli and the other two. “Is there anything you’d like to ask Eva before we--”

“Victor Temple,” Eva cuts his question, snapping their attention back to her. “I accept the offer of your favor. A boon has been offered, and accepted.”

They all remain silent for one long, ominous moment, before Victor smiles and nods with respectful aplomb to her. It's then that Annabelle, finally out of her shocked stupor, clings yet  _ again _ to Jasper’s arm very casually and jolts him closer to herself, whispering by his ear once he has bent far enough to be at her height. 

“This looks like very serious business,” she mutters at him, wary. “What’s going on?”

“It  _ is _ very serious business.” Jasper nods at her, equally quiet.

She frowns with some disappointment at his deadpanned response, but after realizing she wasn’t getting any further explanation about it, she finally lets go of him.

“Okay...” she sighs in an almost pouty mumble.

Victor is looking down his wristwatch, checking the time when a loud roar echoes through the park from the parking lot. They all turn around, surprised, to find a dark-colored car barreling up the ridge of the hill, gunning it’s motor towards them at full speed. 

Victor tenses up and hurries closer to Annabelle and Jasper, grabbing the baby Brujah’s shoulders and pushing her towards the observatory Eva has by now long disappeared into. Jasper cloaks himself, beckoning darkness to swallow him despite the tingle of hunger it spikes on him; after all the blood scent teasing him, he supposed it was inevitable. But the adrenaline of the sudden threat was enough to quiet down the beast into its corner. 

“Did yo-- Wha--” Annabelle tries asking, confused, but Victor pays her no mind. 

“Hide!” He urges her, dashing alongside Nelli to the building. “Quick, to the Observatory!”

“Just listen to him.” Nelli hisses, pulling her away too. 

Annabelle frowns and immediately looks around, almost as if wanting to grab Jasper’s arm, but freezes and dashes away when he is nowhere to be seen. He keeps his eyes fixed on the raging car, carefully slipping away from its initial trajectory but staying in close range so he can take a proper look at their impromptu attackers. The car speeds past him when they don’t see anyone immediately where they had been, and slams head-first into Victor’s parked but still on SUV. 

The exploding sound of the collision echoes through the night. The impact drags Victor’s car two dozen yards away from its parking spot, the squeal of the breaks and the distorted metal ringing loudly, but not loud enough to hide the howl of pain Ib, Victor’s trusted driver, lets out. Jasper peeks back to the observatory, looking for the rest of the coterie, but they’re nowhere in sight - the front door slightly open. He can see Victor peeking out from a side window, which brings the Nosferatu’s attention back to the matter at hand. 

He looks back at the car just in time to see two doors being open from the new car, one in the front and one in the back from the same side. Jasper growls as he sees the driver coming into view; a squat, misshapen individual with unnaturally long arms, that is clearly not human - at least, not  _ completely _ . The figure emerging from the backseat is more normal though, a tall and athletic man, but the dark of night summed to the distance gives them enough cover not to make clear their identities. 

“She dead?” the tall one asks, peeking at Victor’s wrecked car.

“I dunno, I’ll go check.” the squat figure yelps, shutting the door and approaching the wreckage. He goes around the front of the SUV, clearly trying to peek through the dark windows without getting too close. “... Ugh, I can’t tell. Hold on.”

The squat man waddles even closer, reaching for the car, then a sound of rending metal announces his action even before Victor’s door appears loose in his hands above his head, distorted out of its hinges and discarts it behind him like it weighs nothing. Jasper’s eyes go wide, but he stays in position, keeping watch. There isn’t much to be seen in the dimly lit interior of Victor’s SUV from that far away, especially now with the car as twisted as it was. But it hardly was necessary; as, no more than two seconds afterwards, Ib’s voice echoes in a shout followed by several gunshots. Jasper can see the muzzle flash exploding from inside the SUV. 

Almost immediately, too, Behind him the doors of the observatory slam open and Annabelle and Victor are dashing towards the vehicle, Nelli unhurriedly sauntering behind them. Jasper groans, rolling his eyes before springing himself into action as well before they get themselves killed. 

He snuck closer to the thugs while they were distracted with Ib’s shooting in the car, making note of his coterie’s movements as they approached the duo from the other side - but further away. As he moved, Jasper could make out some more details about the two attackers. The tall man, who was standing a little behind the car and closer to him, had very short black hair, cut in a military cut and was wearing a long heavy coat that was definitely too warm for this time of year. He was in guard, ready for action… and very clearly breathing.  _ Ghouls _ , then, considering the car crash both had just walked out of apparently unharmed.

Annabelle is still gunning towards the duo with no regard for cover, and as they reach around 20 feet from the cars, Victor leaps into the air, soaring over Annabelle. With clear supernatural strength the Ventrue propelled himself far enough that he landed with a loud  _ bang  _ on the hood of his SUV, looming eerily over the short man Ib was firing against. While the two thugs gasped and tensed up, focused on Victor’s beastial entrance, Jasper quickly positioned himself behind the tall man and drew his knife. He dropped his disguise as he grabbed his arm with one hand and pulled his knife over his neck. 

“Can we help you?” The nosferatu smirks. The man tenses up and draws a sharp intake of breath, preparing to react - but… “Do  _ not _ .” Jasper hisses in his ear, pulling the blade harder against his neck. “Move.”

Immediately, the man gives up.

Taking advantage of his hostage’s compliance, Jasper quickly peeks into how the others are doing ahead. While Victor is holding the short man’s focus in a tense intimidation contest, Annabelle has finally reached the fight. There is a loud sound of twisting metal as she disappears behind what’s left of Victor’s SUV, then three more shots are fired against the distracted man once the other door flies back against the grass. 

The short man groans and staggers back a couple steps as a few of the bullets hit him, but doesn’t drop. From the now open view the lack of doors gives him Jasper can see Ib positioned on the ground half covered by the car, saying something to Annabelle then handing her a handgun. Even from afar, Jasper can tell Annabelle has stiffened and pales as she stares at the weapon. 

“Point and click.” Victor yells when she doesn’t pick the gun up, drawing his own pistol out of his suit and immediately firing at the deformed man ahead, who dodges out of the way and now shifts his focus to the Ventrue. 

Before he can go far though, Annabelle launches herself through the open doors of the SUV straight towards the man, gun in hand. The sight somehow it’s unexpected for him, and Jasper is  _ almost _ about to admit he is impressed… But then immediately Annabelle grabs the man by his collar and slams the butt of the gun across his face. 

“EAT LEAD!” she screams, proceeding tlock the man on the ground under her and beat him senseless with both her naked fist and the gun as a very inappropriate club. 

“That is NOT how that works!” Victor groans behind her, jumping out of the SUV and walking towards Ib while still keeping the man somewhat on his range. 

Jasper can’t help but to gape, wide eyed to the display and chuckle,  _ definitely _ caught off guard all over again by the fiery short woman - but the distraction is short lived. His focus shifts back to the tall man in his grasp when he grunts annoyedly, shifting his weight restlessly to the spectacle unfolding in front of them. The Nosferatu makes sure to keep the pressure of the knife firm against him, tightening his grip on the man’s arm as a point just in case he thinks this is enough of a leeway to get away from him. 

“What do you want with us?” Jasper demands in the man’s ear. 

The stranger stiffens again, then clears his throat. 

“Yeah, uh… We were just told to make sure none of you got out of the park.”

“Mm,” Jasper nodded, thoughtful. Misdirection. A truthful answer while still not revealing much of anything at all. This man was well trained, that much was clear. “How is that going?”

“Eh. Could be better.” he sighed.

“Who sent you?”

The man clicks his tongue and sighs, shifting in place again.

“Oh, man. This is not good. Not, not good at all...” he hisses with himself, clearly on edge. “Uh. So. Can we make a deal?”

Jasper smirks. So, well trained,  _ but _ a coward. He could work with that far too easily.

“What do you want?” he encourages with a shrug.

“I’ll tell you and you let me go?”

“Sure.”Jasper shrugs. “Let’s do it.”

“Shit...” The thug clicks his tongue again, looking away as he thinks. Eventually, the man grunts and shakes his head, turning back to Jasper who waits patiently in place. “Okay. Okay. It’s McNeil, McNeil sent me.”

Jasper frowns and tenses up to the name, but wastes no time with shock; as soon as the man stops talking, the Nosferatu repositions his hands and slams the tall figure’s head against the car beside them, knocking him out. The man groans and slides bonelessly into the asphalt, giving him Jasper time to actually process the information he has got.  _ McNeil _ . THE McNeil? Seems a bit of a stretch, imagining such a powerful figure sending out mere ghouls to do his job, not to mention picturing anyone  _ that _ high up in Kindred society and history having any particular interest in them. Most likely it was a ruse, just a fake name they were offering to get themselves saved without letting out the truth…. 

But… 

His eyes followed up to Annabelle, who was still frantically beating the short thug into a pulp on the floor, her violent frenzy still continuing for minutes even though the man was very noticeably no longer moving. That’s when she stops, eyes wide and breathing heavy, finally seeming to notice what she has just done. She looks up, and around to Jasper and Victor, though the Ventrue is not in their direct line of sight by now. 

“Is-- Is he-- Did I--” She immediately bends down and checks for a pulse, for breath, but even with proof he was still - albeit  _ barely  _ \- kicking, she simply stands there, staring at the man and all the blood soaking her hands and jacket in absolute horror. 

Certainly, her random abandonment without any bare knowledge of her condition didn’t add up, but whoever was her sire also  _ had _ to be an Elder, considering the upper generation announced by the Blood Witch. 

Could it be that, maybe…?

“Um. We, we--” Annabelle stutters, still more in shock than conscious. 

“Should go.” Jasper offers, tense - though for an entirely different reason than hers.

“...Yeah.” Annabelle agrees, still with her eyes glued to the unconscious man but nodding vehemently and pointing at Jasper as further point. 

“Yeah.” Victor sighs as well, appearing from out of his cover with Ib in his arms. She is hurt, blood stains showing up all over even through her dark clothing, but not dangerously so. “I’m sure Eva’s has probably cleared out of here by now.”

Jasper nods as the Ventrue joins them. 

“There’s another!” Nelli shouts from somewhere above them.

Jasper follows the sound with a frown, and his eyes widen in shock when he finds the Toreador perched on it’s outer wall near the dome a few stories up, clutching to the stone like some sort of insect, hands and feet clawing to the wall except for one hand which is pointing down the hill, towards the entrance… Where, indeed, they all now look at and spot the headlights of another vehicle.

“What?” Annabelle gapes, snapping a little out of her shock as she looks up at Nelli. She leans close to Jasper again and murmurs to him. “Uh… Can I do that, too?”

“Probably not.” Jasper mumbles back, deadpanned. His eyes still squinted in suspicion up to the Diva and her  _ clearly-not-possible _ skill for a Toreador, but he says nothing. 

It was not his place to pry after all, since Victor and Nelli’s one good side to other Kindred was how  _ they _ never pried to  _ his _ secrets. But, admittedly, deep down a part of him smirked; his personal distaste for the vain Toreador now enhanced with the sweet irony of their similarities between them that kind of ability implied. Oh, how interesting it would be if it was true… The pretty face and focus of the highlights, a fatally ironic example of how truly monstrous their kind could really be. Even more so than Jasper himself was.

Victor quickly opens way between then though, unphased, and opens the passenger seat door of the car the things came in, setting Ib down on it gently before running around to the driver side.

“Come on, let's go! Let's go, let's go!" He yelps to them as he gets in the busted vehicle. 

Jasper quickly pats Annabelle's shoulder, urging her in. "Get in the car, come on."

Annabelle nods and opens the SUV's door, but then halts and looks back at the two unconscious men laying on the ground.

“Are they gonna be ok if we leave them here?" She asks,  _ actually _ concerned about the men that had just tried to kill them off. That she had nearly beaten down to death. 

“It doesn't matter." He scoffs, staring at her quizzically, but the answer sentence only makes her frown and seem even more hesitant.

Just as he is about to say something else, Nelli has leaped off the observatory wall and lands rather majestically for someone in high heels falling 14 feet, a couple steps away from them.

“Just get in the car." She pushes Annabelle in with an impatient groan, sitting beside her and closing the door. 

“Yeah." 

As Nelli sits down behind Victor, the Ventrue turns to her with wide, disturbed eyes. He stuttered, his eyes kept darting between Nelli and the observatory wall, but Nelli sighed with exasperation and just kneeled his back through the driver seat. 

“Drive!" She yelled at him, rolling her eyes.

Victor grunts to the pressure, but turns the batted SUV around and punches it; making sure to buckle Ib in safely beside him first. The steering wheel is clearly unstable, and there is an odd noise on the tires, like some metal is rubbing down, but at least it  _ was _ working. 

“Ok, buckle up everyone." Victor sighed, fumbling with the wheel and gear shift awkwardly. 

Clearly he was not used to driving himself around, but then again, who was Jasper to judge? He barely remembered the last time he had been behind a wheel. Even before his embrace, despite having a license cars had never really been his thing. 

As Victor set them on the way down the hill, still eyeing Nelli through the mirror uncomfortably, Jasper eyed the blue haired Toreador upon this, his suspicions even stronger now that even Victor didn't know of those skills. But, indeed, there was no point in peeking into it any further  _ now _ . 

“Ok, dad." Annabelle scoffed in a low and unamused mumble. 

Beside Nelli, the asian woman's eyes were lost between the landscape outside and the blood mess most of her arms, jacket, shirt and gun were covered in… blood that was  _ not _ hers. It didn't smell so. The scent made something in the bottom of Jasper's stomach coil and uncoil ravenously, restlessly. The realization of Annabelle's mess making its scent and the equally strong one oozing out of Ib's injuries invading his senses.  _ Ugh, just his luck… _

Peeking at the headlights ahead of him, Jasper's mind raced and he quickly opened the door and jumped off the car before Victor could reach top speed. He sees Annabelle's eyes go wide and her whole body snap out of shock to learn closer and grasp for him, Nelli frowning in confusion. They both yell something, surprise, worry; but Jasper shuts the door before they can raise any complaints. 

Using the last safe degree of his self control, he summons up the darkness and vanishes into the night. Jasper jogs safely out of either car's direct path as Victor guns it down the hill, following his comrades losely down towards the exit through the tree lines. Breathing the clean air in, setting the hungry Beast in the back of his mind down to its place. 

Victor careens down the hill, the SUV heading fast speed towards the other car. For a moment, it looks like they'll crash, but then Victor makes way  _ beside _ them and just barely manages past them with the doors scraping against each other. 

There's a howl of protesting metal, but before they can react, the cotery is past them and rockets down the driveway back into downtown. The enemy car immediately roars into life and they make a sharp turn, the break squeaking against the pavement as they prepare to tail Victor's stolen car.

Jasper gauged the distance between them quickly, then dashed down the hill. Propelling himself with the aid of the downhill momentum summed and his supernatural blood, Jasper leaped into the air. It was not the most graceful of sights, a Nosferatu leaping like a monstrous kangaroo - but, at least it was effective. plus, luckily, considering the lack of obstacles in his way Jasper was still safely invisible to the naked eye. In three big leaps, he landed a hundred yards ahead of his parting point - right behind the car moments before it dashed out in chase of Victor.

As quickly as he could, Jasper jumped one more time and clung to the big spare tire behind the trunk, clinking to it with his arms and legs as the vehicle sped down the hill towards the park's open exit gate. They make quick and sharp turns as safely and fast as they can, to Jasper's dismay. Left, right, left, right! Squeal of brakes, and all around him traffic and horns start echoing from all sides. If he lets himself be seen  _ now _ , a break of the Masquerade would be the least of his worries. 

Jasper focuses on the inside of the car as attentive as he can, without letting go of both his supernatural disguise and his grip on the shaky tire. He can hear them rambling and arguing inside, though the voices are muffled and too mixed with the external noise around him to discern any words. His hands are aching and slipping, and the car is turning even faster and faster. Jasper clicks his tongue, annoyed. His grip is not gonna last at this speed, and he has no hope of gathering much info like this. 

With a last effort, he pulled himself up and took a long, focused look at the driver and passenger in the front seats. In the glow of their dashboard instrumentation panels, Jasper can't see much of the driver - but the passenger is a woman. Of long black hair and pale skin, who us smirking and talking with a sarcastic amusement to another passenger behind them. And when she smiles she's got the longest, prettiest fangs he has ever seen. Something almost unnatural even for a Kindred. Jasper smirks, somewhat relieved. Despite the plan overall being stupid, he was sure he could recognize that profile again.

And that's when he falls off, rolling back face first against the pavement. Takes a moment for Jasper to manage to steady himself, immediately running out into a dark alley before he even measures the amount of damage this little endeavour took. He touched his face tentatively, wincing at the gross sensation of his undead muscles exposed all through his left side. Overall though, it didn’t feel too bad; the whole left side of his face was rashed from the pavement, the dry, callous gray skin his Embrace gave him gone and leaving his Vitae and dead muscles exposed to view.

It felt bad, but probably looked worse. After a few moments of careful examination between touch and with his phone’s ancient camera - fuck Victor for stashing him with that damn flip phone - Jasper concluded it wasn’t anything he couldn’t heal within the next couple hours…  _ If _ he made sure to feed.

With a long, annoyed sigh to the prospect, he got up from the street and stretched his sore arms and legs, cursing mentally at the thorns across his favorite hoodie and pants as he started walking through the shadows back towards the park. Well, the good thing about a gothic style clothing  _ and _ about technically not existing, was that keeping his clothes ok was very, VERY low in his priority list. And he never actually had to feel bad for it, since no one really expected a Nosferatu to do so either even when he needed to be social. Once Jasper reaches the safety of the treelines of Griffith Park again, Jasper pulls out his phone and dials down to the Baron. 

“Jasper,” Abrams' voice on the other end is intrigued.

“Yes. I--”

“... I thought you were with Victor.”

The nosferatu nods through a sigh. Good, so Victor  _ had _ already called him too.

“No, we split up during the car chase.” Jasper replies. “I’m assuming they called you already?”

“Yes, we’ve spoken.” The baron confirms, now slightly more on edge. “What do you want?” 

“Well, I just wanted to report that I have some information they didn’t.”

The other end of the line was silent, waiting. 

“Those men, that I’m sure they told you about?” Jasper starts, continuing once the Baron hums with curiosity. “McNeil sent them.”

“ _ McNeil!?"  _ The tense edge on the Toreador’s voice was just as baffled as Jasper had felt back when he heard it, which made him chuckle. His private conversations with Abrams hardly ever got out of a cold monotone, considering the Toreador’s open despise of his kind and Jasper’s personal dislike of everyone in general, so his surprised gasp was oddly amusing.

“That’s what they said.” Jasper shrugged through a sigh. “Under… coercion.” 

Some more silence went by while the baron processed that information, the gears turning inside his mind almost audible to Jasper even through the phone. “We'll talk tomorrow night.” he eventually sighs, still tense and clearly thoughtful. Then, to Jasper’s surprise, the Baron’s tone took an oddly kind tone. “Thank you, Jasper, I won't forget it."

“Goodbye.” 

It’s all Jasper says before hanging up and slowly trailing the known way home.


End file.
